ROSES (Oli Sykes Fan Fiction) COMPLETE

PICK UP THE PIECES

[Trigger Warning: Please read with caution if suicide is a trigger for you]

I felt like I was dying and honestly, I truly wished I was. I'd never wanted to die before but at that moment, it's genuinely what I wanted. I couldn't stop replaying every word that left Oli's lips and I just wanted to escape from it. The stupidest thing was that all I wanted was his arms around me. Even though he had hurt me so much, he was the person I wanted to come and comfort me, rescue me, save me. I heard the band's tour bus start up and I felt fear and doom shoot in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. I didn't want him to leave, I didn't want to never see him again. Surely he wouldn't just leave me there? He was going to run back and tell me it would be OK, right? I looked up as I heard the engine dip and I watched as the bus pulled away from the front of the hotel. He was... leaving me. I was alone. My body started shaking even more and I sobbed so loudly as the bus drove away, taking Oli out of my life forever. I became absolutely hysterical. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think and my crying was filled with rambles as I told Oli not to leave me.

A lady from reception came over and asked if I was OK and I just shook my head. I wasn't OK, I didn't know how to function, how to speak, how to stand up. I didn't know how to process any part of what had happened in the past ten minutes. "Is there someone I can call for you?" the lady asked. I needed Cassidy, but thinking about her made me cry even more, she was probably sitting in San Francisco thinking everything was rainbows and butterflies like it was 24 hours ago... that I'd arrive back to San Francisco deliriously happy, totally in love and with some kind of plan to see Oli again soon. That just made me feel worse and cry even more. I shook my head. I couldn't tell anyone, even her. I was completely alone. I didn't want to go back home. I didn't want to see Cassidy or talk to anyone, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. For a split second, I contemplated running out of the hotel doors into the traffic flying past so a truck could collect me and put me out of my misery. At least I wouldn't have to deal with the pain that was consuming me. 

My airport transfer arrived after only about five minutes, and even though I didn't want to go home, there was no other option. I had no choice but to find the strength to get up off the floor. I stumbled and the lady who asked if I was OK came over and asked again. This time I actually looked at her and shook my head as tears poured down my face. She handed me tissues then rubbed my arm in sympathy which made me sob. I wondered if she'd seen Oli talking to me, if she knew he was the one who made me into such a mess, the one who broke me. My driver put  my suitcase in the car and I sat staring out the window crying and feeling completely numb as we drove for nearly an hour to the airport. Every minute was torture. I couldn't clear my mind for a single second; it was consumed with dark thoughts and sadness. I didn't know how I was going to sit for 5 hours trapped on a plane with nothing to do but replay everything that had happened, but I guess I was happy to be getting away from Mexico City. I felt scared, alone and vulnerable, and even though I didn't want to go home, I wanted to be somewhere I could lock myself away from the world and my bedroom was the perfect place.

I felt like everyone was staring at me as I dragged my feet through the airport, towing my bag behind me like it was as heavy as a bus. I felt like everyone knew exactly what happened and was judging me, thinking how naive and pathetic I was for ever thinking there was going to be any sort of happy ending with Oli. My mind had never had control of me in the way it did then; like a demon had emerged from the depths of hell, telling me I was weak, pathetic, stupid... I couldn't turn it off and honestly, I believed it. I hated myself. My eyes were puffy and stinging as I failed to stop my tears and my nose was so stuffy from all of the crying. The lady at the check-in desk asked if I was OK when she saw me and I hated that she asked me; it just made me upset all over again. She looked shocked when I started crying, so I said my boyfriend had just dumped me. It wasn't that far from a lie, he felt like my boyfriend until 12 hours ago and besides, I needed some story to explain the way I was acting. "I'm sorry." she said sympathetically. I don't think she or anyone really cared though, I guess airport workers saw emotional people all the time. I was so exhausted and the crying came and went, but every time I saw something that reminded me of Oli, the tears came back like they never went away; an ad for our resort, a sign advertising the cliff divers... there was no escape from him in that airport at all. I went straight to the pharmacy once I was through security and asked them for something to help me sleep on the plane... honestly, I wished they'd give me something I could take so that I'd never wake up again, but all they could sell me was some herbal sleeping aid that apparently tricks the body into sleep. It didn't. I took a handful of them and sat on the plane, awkwardly curled up against the window because sitting on my bruised backside was too painful. I cried under my blanket feeling sick, weak and just completely horrible. I really hoped the tablets would knock me out but they didn't. At least after a while I felt like I couldn't really cry anymore and the delicate skin under my eyes caught a moment of relief. The 5 hour flight felt like 5 days and all I could do was flash back to the perfect moments in Acapulco, the pivotal moment on the roof in Mexico City and then break down in tears all over again as I replayed the moment Oli completely ripped out my heart. Nobody had ever made me feel so hurt and worthless in my entire life, yet I still loved him. My heart still adored him every time I saw his face in a memory, his beaming smile, his permanently sadly-shaped eyes. I wished I was still with him. I longed for his arms to be around me. I wanted him to hold me and kiss me on the head and tell me I'd be OK, but he couldn't, he wouldn't. It broke my heart repeatedly as I thought about it. It was like torture.

It was already dark when I landed in San Francisco and I hadn't messaged Cassidy in over 24 hours. I hadn't even looked at my phone since this morning, so I didn't know if she would be there to pick me up or not. I couldn't think that far ahead, I could barely think far enough ahead to get myself off the plane, to the immigration line and into the United States. As I waited in line, I couldn't hold back tears when I saw the sign that said 'Welcome to San Francisco'. Being home was a relief, but I was also embarrassed. I barely had the strength to even cry anymore. I had nothing left in me and my eyes felt like sandpaper. I was weak. I felt like a hollow shell with nothing inside... Nothing happy, nothing sad, just absolutely nothing. The man at immigration asked if I was unwell as I approached his desk and of course that made me cry - I hated that my sadness was so visible to everyone, that everyone could judge me or jump to conclusions about why I was crying. I wished I could hold myself together, but I just couldn't no matter how hard I tried. I used the same 'my boyfriend dumped me' excuse and the man took pity on me and let me through. I don't think I could have handled it if he didn't believe me and they took me in for questioning or something. Every minute waiting for my luggage and in line at customs was torture. Seeing people so happy and excited as they traveled, couples holding hands as they waited, kids laughing as they ran around... it was like my life was dead and cold, but everyone else's was still bright and alive all around me. I felt like a zombie... like I was lifeless. It was like my heart and soul were still on the floor of that hotel in Mexico City, even though my body was back in San Francisco. 

When I finally made it out of customs and exited the arrivals door, I didn't make eye contact with anyone. I didn't want to see people reuniting with loved ones, I didn't want to see happiness, tears of joy or hugs, and I certainly didn't want anyone to see me. I knew I looked like complete and utter shit and people would just whisper and stare, jumping to conclusions about why I was so upset. I was such a mess, so I pulled the hood of my jumper up over my head and kept my face down as I exited. There was a huge gathering of people watching at the exit, so I quickly headed left because it was always quieter, and when I got past the crowd of people waiting I just stopped. It was like I didn't even know what to do next. I didn't know where to go. My mind didn't work at all anymore. I felt like walking was too hard, like I had no energy at all, so I just stood there staring into oblivion.

"Wills?!" I heard faintly out of nowhere; that familiar voice standing out over the drowning sounds of a busy international airport. I heard it again so looked toward the sound and as I did, I saw Cassidy standing a couple of meters away from me, at the back of the crowd, holding a plastic red rose in her hands; the same type I used to give to Oli. I felt an overwhelming feeling rush over my body and as I met her eyes, I saw her face change from happy and excited to one full of concern. Tears filled my eyes, my knees gave way and the world suddenly went in slow motion. It was like my body finally knew it was safe for me to completely give up, to surrender... that I didn't need to find strength to get home safely anymore, that Cass would look after me. "NO!" she squealed as she dropped the rose and I felt myself go limp. I fell to the ground as her rose did the same and she ran toward me as my emotions came pouring out. She landed on the ground and threw her arms around me, hugging me on the floor of San Francisco airport in front of hundreds of people with total disregard for what anybody thought. "NO!" she said, her voice cracking as she squeezed me and pulled my head against her shoulder. I could hear the sadness in her voice and I started sobbing loudly. "I hate him! I fucking hate him!" she sobbed as she cried with me in empathy.