Love Sucks (Muke)

Ch. 28 - Drown

"Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down? Save me from myself, don't let me drown. Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive? Save me from myself, don't let me drown"

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*Luke's P.O.V*

"Michael! Michael, help me!" I mumble quietly as I toss & turn in my bed. Then, realising what I was doing, I pull myself up into a sitting position, glancing around in the darkness.

I reach over and grab my phone off the bedside table so I can check the time: 4:12am. Which means I've only had about an hours sleep. Again.

I groan, pulling myself out of bed and walking over to the light switch to turn the lights on, because I know I'm not going to be able to get back to sleep.

I shuffle over to the mirror on my cupboard door, shake up my jet-black hair and sweep my fringe to the side.

And yeah, I said black. Last week after Aleisha & I called it quits... Again... I dyed my hair black. Ashton & Calum lost their shit about it, as did my mum, but I told them that I only did it because Michael was always bugging me to dye my hair black, and they respected that.

I also got a tattoo, the same day I dyed my hair, it's pretty small, and on my back, hidden by the band on my boxers. It's Michael's initials inside an arrow heart.

Sappy first tattoo, I know, but I just wanted to get a tattoo for Michael. I've already decided that I'm going to get more tattoos, I just don't know what to get yet.

I also got my ears pierced yesterday. According to Calum & Ashton, I'm turning into a mess and they are starting to worry about me. I'm not 'turning' into a mess, I've been a mess ever since Michael left, and I guess they should be worried, because I am.

What makes life a thousand times harder is the fact that every morning, I half expect Michael to be snuggled up in my arms or in the bed beside me, but he's not. Also, I'll do or remember something and go to tell Michael about it or go to show him something and realise he's not there and it sucks.

I know it's only been four months, but it feels like it's been years and it's killing me.

Getting sick of my reflection, I turn away from the mirror and start pacing my room. This is what I seem to do every night, I get an hour or so of sleep, then get up and pace my room, usually drowning in my thoughts and/or listening to music... Which reminds me...

I walk over to my bedside table and grab my phone & headphones. After setting everything up and picking a band at random, which was Rise Against, I return to pacing my room.

All I can say, is that when you are pacing your room while listening to music at God knows what time of the night/morning, time tends to fly... No matter how miserable you feel.

I turn my light off again once I can tell that it's starting to get light outside, then wait another hour or so before turning my music off and climbing back into bed to pretend that I'm asleep for when mum comes in to 'wake' me up.

I was actually starting to fall asleep by the time mum walks into my room ten minutes later, so I decide to get up and go have a shower before it's time to do whatever it is I have to do today.

By the time I am finished in the shower, I have a missed text from Ashton: Practice at mine in 2 hours, please don't be late.

Deciding that I'm not hungry, I just grab the almost half empty bottle of vodka out of the fridge and take it back to my room, where I flick the television on to watch the end of an episode of SpongeBob.