I Just Need Some Time Alone (Rewrite) (completed)

chapter 4

   Alfred had made it to the hotel room, slamming the door behind him. Tossing his bag on the floor next to it and watching it slowly slide to ground, which he soon followed... what happened at the meeting wouldn't leave his head. The others saw his tears to. How could he have let this happen? What was he going to do? Facing them after this felt similar to a suicide mission. Surely they would see him as weak now. What if they used it against him...Thoughts rushed around his brain like a tornado causing tears to flood his eyes again. Trying to hold them back did nothing and in the end they fell anyway.  Sobs rushed out, his breathing became deep and quick, his lungs burned as if they were on fire. Soon his body began to shake, making him wrap his arms around himself, in an attempt to stable himself. Then his vision began to blur.

   Panic set in, He couldn't breath. He wanted to scream but all that came was gasps. Breathing was getting harder and harder for him. Black dots appeared in his line of sight. He tried to stand up and move to the bed, but the body had given up on him only after a few steps... quickly he hit the ground with a loud thud. He tried to raise himself to no avail, this didn't try to get back up.  looking at the room around him, barely being able to see it, and feeling his head spin. The black dots soon took over everything leaving him in complete darkness...

     waking up with a pounding headache wasn't what he exactly needed at the moment but that didn't stop him from sitting up. Dreary eyes wondered around the room, hazy vision making it hard to see, memories of what happened came to back to him. Slowly standing up, making sure the body could handle lifting its. He walked over to the desk that was in the room. He grabbed his phone. There were a few missed calls and messages from his old friends. He looked the text over, he listened to the voicemail. He felt kind of bad about what happened. He also worried people he cared about, even if he did push them away. He responded back to the messages saying that he was fine, and that work had stressed him out too much. No one completely bought it, but they didn't argue. He looked around his hotel room, he began to grab his things and packed them.

Alfred had a flight home in 2 days. He let out a sigh at that information. He wanted to go home now. He didn't want to deal with running to anybody and embarrassing himself. Sitting on the bed he listened to some music to help him calm down some more. He had an urge to harm himself. A old habit he has attempted to drop for years now, bit he always came back to it. He has been 4 months free so far but if the urge got to strong that may not matter anymore. He needed something to do to distract himself from these thoughts. He didn't want to leave his room. After sometime of looking around the room he gave up. There was nothing that would distract him. He started to get antsy.

He needed to either harm himself or get away from himself. He started going through his bag. He then found it a lighter. He pulled it out lighting it to see if it worked. He smiled at the sight if the flame. He pulled down his pants to above his knees. He then lifted the boxers so his thighs were in view. He lit the lighter again. He let it heat up before pressing it into his leg. The burning feeling made him let out a cry of pain. It had been awhile since he had done this. Once it cooled down he repeated it so many times he lost count.

He looked at his legs pulling his pants off all the way. He went to the bathroom. He got a wash cloth wet with cold water and began to clean and cool off the new self inflicted wounds. He stared at his legs as he cleaned them. He really was a self indulgent villain wasn't he. When he finished he put the wash cloth in a basket close by. He then went to his bag and pulled a really thin t-shirt he ripped it into strands so he could use it as bandages. Once he finished he pulled on some shorts and laid in his bed on his phone for a few hours.