The girl behind the bucket list (1D Fanfic)

White.

July's POV.

         White. Back into the high feeling. Un top of the world. Maniac. Crazy. Literally insane. I wonder why they would make me take pills for these mood swings? I wonder why they say it's dangerous to be so fucking depressed one day and wake up feeling un top of the world the other? I mean, why would feeling on top of the world with no kind of self-poisoning would be so phsycologically dangerous? Why would feeling so good about yourself be bad? I'm un top of the world, feeling better than anyone, let me fucking be. Put the pills aside, I don't need that shit, I'm fucking fine. In fact, I'm more than fine. 

           I wanna call Harry, I wanna hook up with him so bad. I wanna hook up with anyone so bad. I wanna call him, tell him to come home, I wanna do things with him in every single corner of this house when Mark is gone to work. I want us to do things that would probably dig us down in hell, so bad that they would take us to face the devil then bring us back to earth, because what worse hell  is there than our own planet? But at the same time, that's not exactly what I want. I don't exactly want to do dirty things with him or anybody. That's not what I want, but this need is making me believe it is what I want. This need to feel like somebody wants me, even if he wants me for all the wrong reasons. Mostly, I just need to feel. Feel something else than insane.

     So I call him, tell him I wanna thank him for what he did for me a few days back. Thank him for not freaking out when he saw my other side, my blue side. Though I'm not sure how it is exactly that I would like to thank him. 

    I shake the dirty thoughts off my head, because anyways, I can't go to that level with him. Why? Maybe because of the fact that I've never really had sex at all. Why? Because I'm scared of it. Well, not exactly. I'm not scared of intercourse, well yeah I am, but that's not what takes me back from doing it. Showing my bare body full of extra flesh and scars does.

     I take a quick shower, brush my hair and teeth and get in a nice tight dress. It finishes about six or eight fingers under my butt. The sleeves are sort of puffy on the shoulder area but they become quite tight on my wrists, and they do certainly make my scars itch, but I have to swallow it in. I can't just go out showing my scars all over on people's faces. I go in the bathroom to take a quick pee before I leave, but I try not to look pass the mirror, I don't wanna ruin my big ego caused by this maniac episode by giving one little stare into my enemy- The mirror.

     My phone vibrates.

      From Harry: 

     Hey, I'm here. I thought I'd find you drunk already.

I roll my eyes and don't bother on answering.

    From Laura:

    Hey, Harry is here waiting for you, and so am I. Hurry up, By the way I kinda brought a friend hope you don't mind. Yes, he is hot and he is nice, don't worry.

   I giggle and answer: Ooh Laa Laa.... On my way, don't get drunk before me please.

   

   And her answer is about her saying she doesn't get drunk and that I know that, And I do. But sometimes, she gets drunk. Maybe accidentally. Maybe.

    ******

     I can't speak. Words are so damn hard to spit out, maybe because my lips move differently when I'm trying to pronounce something. Ha, Pronounce, weird word. Pro..uns..se. Hahaha, wait. Pr...uuoo..ncee. Hahaha, try spelling it. P...r...u..o..e.....c....n? Hahaha, I guess I'm drunk, cause I'm usually really good at spelling.