Cherry; Harry Styles

14%

♪GRAVITY - COLDPLAY♪

✵ ✵ ✵

Della.

LAST NIGHT.

My hand run effortlessly through my wet brown strands as I wrap a fresh towel around my body. I wipe the foggy mirror, clearing the spot directly in front of my face. As I look at myself through the filmy mirror, a frown dresses my face.

I'm a mess.

I scan the entirety of my blemished, hot cheeks. My imperfections still conspicuous, eyes bloodshot red from my silent whimpers, and my damp hair, which messily stuck to my collarbone and neck.

Tears raced down my cheeks as I try my hardest to try to gather composure. I aggressively push the tears out of my face, swiping at my eyes to avoid any escapees. My legs feel uneasy as I stand there, looking at the stranger I've become.

I am losing parts of myself every single day.

I sniffle quietly; more tears threaten to spill from eyes. My body looked calm compared to how tangled my mind was. I am a train wreck. The more time I spend looking at myself in this reflection, the more I pity myself for being this way.

The person I've become I am far from proud of. Here I am, half-naked and ready to release all my negative energy in the form of sexual exchange. I can't even fathom sitting down and talking about my issues because I've pushed away all the emotional aspects of a relationship, all while I fear to be alone.

How does that even make sense? I'm afraid of being alone, but this is as lonely as it gets.

Calum and I are only sexual because I made it that way. I have limited our conversations and set up so many boundaries because I couldn't comprehend being anything more. I've forced just about every one out of my personal life because it's all I know how to do best.

Apart from that, I wish I was a normal seventeen-year-old girl—the kind of girl that has a picture-perfect life. Ya know? A group of caring friends, a boyfriend who actually loves you, and a bright future ahead. But none of that is in the charts for me. It isn't realistic. I wasn't that girl, and I never would be.

I despise those girls.

Their lives are far from dysfunctional families and a fucked up head. They wore pinup dresses and pretended their yacht boyfriends were surfer boys by the bay. While I struggle to afford to buy new clothes and keep myself from going insane. I am the epitome of dysfunctional. I don't mean to be; it's just the way I am. I was never like this before—when I was younger. I had dreams of that picture-perfect life, had ideal goals and plans for my future, and now I just don't know.

I have no plans past this year. I never thought I'd make it this far.

"Hey..you' okay in there?" Calum's voice distracts me from my unsettled thoughts.

I take a moment to collect myself, pushing the tears from my cheeks with my palms of my hands. My cheeks are hot and red. It was clear that I'd been crying. Calum can't see me like this.

"I'll be out in a sec!" I feign an excited tone, attempting to mask the pain in my voice. I watch as the shadow below the door disappears.