Aurelie. [H.S]

CHAPTER 27

24 November 2017

Aurelie's POV

Have you ever had that feeling where your heart drops and stays there for hours? Where each step you take, you're afraid that you might be sick? It's followed me for the last two weeks.

I toss and turn in bed, pull apart every piece of my room at least twice a day, and spiral further and further.

I stare blankly at my walls, spend two hours at the gym in silence, and sit under the scalding water of my shower fully clothed for the remainder of the day, too afraid to undress in the fear that someones watching.

It's like an itch that you can't scratch. My thoughts burn me, tie my mouth shut: restrict my voice. Words form, but they feel forced. Any smile is faked, any tear is faked.

Because I well and truly am numb.

And is that a bad thing? Should I be screaming and crying, begging for help? Should I be counting my days or counting down my days? It's impossible to navigate my emotions.

Harry calls every few hours, leaving voicemails when I don't pick up. I've not answered a single call. When I tried listening to one of the messages that he had left, his comforting laughter rang in my ears like alarm bells and froze me. Chills wrestled their way through my bones, and my fingers slammed the phone down to the kitchen countertop in frustration.

I can't bring him in to this any more. Timmy's phone was in fact tampered with, he got it checked out in the early morning the day after we received messages from the anonymous number. The more that I talk to Harry, the more involved he is with my mess.

This is what I do to people. I'm like a spider that just can't stop moving. I make my intricate silk webs, luring people in, and tangle them. Trapped.

That's how everyone feels. Nobody wants to be a support system, nobody wants to be stalked. Therefore, I can't keep letting the people that I care about fall for my tricks. Intentional or not, I hurt them. 

The water shuts off, and I groan, hugging my clothed limbs to my shivering body. The door slides open, sounds of sneakers slipping on the bathroom tiles.

Scruffed up converse enter my view, hands pulling me up. Steam surrounds us like a sauna, though it's more suffocating than relaxing. Their ringed fingers grace my frailing cheek bones carefully, resting me in their arms and carrying me to the bed.

They lay me in the duvets as if I'm a puppet, having to move my joints for me since they've ceased up. I don't pay much attention to who the person is, though I don't really mind because I know exactly who's done this for me for the past two weeks.

"I'm going to get you out of these clothes, okay?" he asks, those big green eyes with a hint of hazel searching mine. My legs shake, and he takes this as a sign to stop.

"It's okay." he soothes me, resting his hand on the back of my head. For a second it comforts me, but then I remember. I'm the spider.

"Timmy. Stop." my throat aches at the first few words that I've spoken in ages, the overwhelming need for water dominating my thoughts.

It's ironic that I sit under a shower for hours but still gasp for water merely seconds after being pulled out.

"Your flight's in two hours. I've packed everything for you already. Just get changed." he begs, his creased eyes showcasing large bags. I gulp and stare into space, not moving an inch.

"Aurelie." he uses my full name as he grips my ankles, moving them a little to get my attention. "You've done this so many times before, you know that this doesn't work. Come on."