Charlotte's POV
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I finally decided to leave my casket. I knew that I had to do something to stop thinking about my constant pain. I couldn't keep living like that. I'm not going to threaten my health over a boy who left me. No matter what, I am in charge of my own life and I cannot let myself become dependent on anyone or anything, because that's toxic. Humans are meant to be independent. Codependent relationships lead to high risks for depression. Something which burdened Harry and I on a daily basis anyway. It's better this way. I read all of that online at some point while I was trying to get over it. Codependent relationships are so poisonous and I am not going to wilt after a few weeks just because a boy left me. I am worth so much more than that. I miss him so much, but letting myself die will not change how he feels about the subject... I couldn't stop wondering. Maybe if he knew, he'd come back... But it didn't matter. He wasn't even worth it. No one was. I wouldn't die. Not for anyone.
"Megan?" I breathed into my phone. My voice even sounded hoarse after having not have used it for so long. I almost hadn't said a word to a single person since Harry left. Even after my mom had forced herself into my room, everything went back to the way it was when she left. I didn't leave my room. I didn't talk to anyone. Piper cried after every attempt to talk to me when I ignored her which was every time. I couldn't even bring myself to care that I was always making my little sister cry. Maybe she'd get it one day. If she was lucky like I had been. No. I wasn't lucky. I got trapped. I just sat and read. We had talked about what happened with Marcus, but I had only talked to Megan once or twice after that. I feel like I haven't seen her in ages. I need human contact.
"Charlotte! You haven't texted me in two months and now you're just calling just like that!? We're best friends and you can't just a-"
"Can I come over?" I mumbled, feeling bad about how I had abandoned her like that. Although I was going through a hard time, it was wrong to have not made any contact with her. She must have been worrying about me like crazy. We're supposed to talk every day. But I didn't feel like it. And it didn't bother me, really. I hadn't wanted to talk to her much before this either. She never had much to say and all she did was tell me that I should leave Harry. Now she'd probably laugh in my face and say I told you so. But I needed to see someone.
"S-sure." She said. I think she could tell pretty quickly that something was wrong. She always knew when something was wrong with me which was one of the reasons that she's my best friend. I shouldn't have such negative thoughts about her. I hesitated for a minute. I was always letting people manipulate me. That's why we're still friends. I sighed. I couldn't manage a goodbye. I hung up and didn't even bother taking anything as I walked out my door. My mom sat on the couch, watching me leave with her jaw agape, but I didn't utter a single word to her. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at my reflection. I grumbled at the dark circles under my eyes. I didn't sleep much either. Reading had sounded much more appealing than dreaming about all that I had lost in the last few weeks. Sometimes I had even had nightmares about Harry dying. Or about me dying. Or about Louis dying. They were all just as bad as the last- worse. I was hoping they would stop because I felt like I was over it. But they never stopped. They only got progressively worse.
Suddenly, my face wasn't the only one that was looking back at me from the reflection in my phone screen. I turned around, eyebrows furrowed. My heart was already racing, because I was surprised to see another face. "Hello." the man said with a smug grin.
"Can- Can I help you?" I asked, taking a step back. At first, I had almost been sure that the offender was Marcus. For a nanosecond, I wondered if he escaped prison, which seemed unlikely. I'm sure that they moved him to somewhere that was more secure. But this was not Marcus or the other guy that had attacked me out in public. This man looked more like a criminal, if anything. He was short and had greasey black hair that was slicked back. And a beard.
