The Bar and the Butterfly [BWWM]

Chapter 6

The sun shined bright through the window, striking me square in the face. At first, I felt my eyes flutter in discomfort before slowly opening them to welcome the bright rays that had illuminated the room. I let out a soft groan. I felt so comfortable. There was a thick comforter wrapped around my body, my face was buried in piles of thick pillows that had a soft scent of cedar. I felt good. I think this was the first time in years I was able to sleep until the sunrise.

I'm sometimes afraid to tell myself I might have a sleeping problem along with all of the other problems I have. Sleeping was one way I could escape my captivity, so the fact that I might have problems with sleep, problems with how I could find escape in what felt like an inescapable mindset was hard to accept. I didn't want to accept that sleeping, escaping my mind's captivity, has always been hard. I was so used to waking up at 3 or 4 in the morning being unable to sleep further before going to the table in the dining room to draw, so the feeling of sleeping until 8 in the morning was a treasure. I twisted and turned in the bed, pulling the comforter closer to me before slowly cracking my eyes open to get a better look at the scene before me.

It was clean, blue and grey walls outstretched to house posters, lamps, plants, and boxes of books. I furrowed my brows before my eyes quickly shot open and shot up from the bed. I let out a sudden gasp and grasped the comforter closer to me, glancing around the room.

Where the hell am I? Realization soon smashed the pit of my stomach with a ton of bricks as last night's events quickly swarmed my mind. The smoke, the fire, the feeling of being trapped again, being forced outside, Ezra. He pulled me out of the smoking building, bought me dinner, gave me a place for the night. He helped me. Even though he forced me out of the building, he helped me accomplish something I have never had the courage to do. Part of me wanted to feel angry at him for pulling me out my safety, even though I clearly was not face. My mind screaming to me that I should have stayed in the burning building and just let the smoke and flames snuff out my existence instead of stepping outside. I gulped. I would have rather died that stepped outside?

I pulled my knees close to my chest. This has gone too far. Despite what has gone on in my life, I didn't think there was a part of me that was suicidal, at least not until now. If there was one thing I wanted to have control over in my life, it was my life. My right to breath, eat and drink, and sleep. That was one thing I refused to have anyone else take from me, so how could I take it from myself? Control. It didn't matter or not, as long as I got to do it.

God, my mind is messed up. I don't know what I'm thinking, I don't know why I'm thinking this way. I needed another outlet. Where are my sketchbooks?

The sound of a loud and familiar buzzing soon pulled me from my thoughts and I shot a quick glance at the nightstand beside me. My phone was buzzing. I was thankful that I had the phone on me before I left the apartment. As I reached down to grab the phone, I noticed a pile of clothes on the ground. A white sweater and jeans in a ransacked pile. Those were my clothes? I soon quickly pulled the comforter held against me away from my body and gasped at the sight before me.

I was half naked in just a white bra and black underwear in Ezra's bed. What the hell happened last night? Did I take my clothes off? I know they were wet from the rain. I could have subconsciously slipped them off as the discomfort grew from sleeping in wet clothes. I felt my mind draw dangerous conclusions and accusations of Ezra being the culprit and before I knew it, I could feel myself getting wary and angry that my conclusions might before.

"Hello," I answered the call before even looking at the caller I.D. I was always stupidly good at not looking at the caller I.D before answering the call, but I always assumed it was mama that called. This time, luckily, my assumption was correct.