Darling || h.s. au {Completed}

T w e n t y E i g h t

Drew agrees stay alive, so I do what she says and stay away from her. But it's hard. I want to rush to her and have her hold me while I cry. Just cry. Crying is something don't do much. So when I do, I do it a lot. That's what I do now. Two days have passed since I last saw Drew, and without someone to distract me, I find myself a useless lard of self-pity watching reruns of Supernatural.

I feel so low.

For the first time in my life since I was thirteen, I have nothing to do. Usually, I would be spending time with Liam or Zayn, or more recently, Drew. But anyone that enters my life leaves just as fast as they came. How could I possibly blame them? I'm such a mess, a drug-dealing, self-loathing, ex-drug addict with a childhood straight from a horror story. The only person I blame for this is my father.

He was not a father, he was a monster. I was more of a father than him. I was the one that helped clean the house, bring food to the table, actually take the time to listen to peoples problems. It's all his fault I never got to have a childhood. It's all his fault I am the way I am. It's all his fault my family hates me. It only took one second for my mom to become afraid of me, one second for her to disown me, one second for me to do the same.

Des turned me into what I am today.

I'm a failure.

I'm a boy who lost his mother, his sister, and himself, all in a time span of five days. My descent to Hell began that day and will continue for the rest of my life.

When I think back to the day Gemma, Mum, and I could sit and just be a family, an ache in my chest pierces through me. It's like a thin needle, being driven straight through my heart, slowly. At first, it was agonizing, I've gotten used to it over the years. Now it subsides in my chest as a simple sharp breath. One huff and it's gone. I can't seem to imagine what it felt like before, I've become so numb to it that I dare not remember the actual pain it once brought me.

The pain that threatened to kill me, the pain that threatened to stay with me my entire life, that same pain kept it's promise. I'm dead. The person I once was when I was younger, there is no trace of him. All the bubbly outbursts, the crooked smiles, the pride, the joy, the naiveté, every last trace of it is gone. It can never be found, not while I'm alone. And I'll always be alone.

No one, not a friend nor an enemy, can help me. This feeling I feel, it's the feeling of myself plunging into the darkness. I was always in the darkness, but the events I've been tortured and traumatized with these past few years, they've completely submerged me. It's like a metaphorical person, in the form of life itself, pushing and holding my head underwater, mercilessly killing me with myself. I myself am killing myself.

Life is death.

Now I understand, life is death. Without life, death would not exist. Without death, life would have no meaning. Life needs death and death needs life. Life is death. How have I been so blind to this? I've been sidetracked by my own problems that I've lost myself. I'm the reason I'm like this. Am I? I wish this would be easier, I wish life could be as easy as death, I wish I was dead.

~

Wow, this got really deep.

I want you guys to know that recently, this is how I've been feeling a lot. I feel like I'm alone, even though I'm very aware I'm not. I feel like no matter who I wish could help me, they can't. Telling my friend about this seems too hard, I feel like her whole opinion of me will change. I seem so happy and cheery sometimes, and I give off the idea that I'm some badass who doesn't care what people say about her, but I'm still a person. I want someone to tell me I matter, and that I'm worth whatever trouble someone wants to go through for me. But no one tells me that.

I barely ever cry, so, like fictional Harry, I cry kind of alot when I'm alone. I've only ever cried in public once. When I'm at home, I have no where. If I try to close my door, my parents tell me not to. The other day, I closed my door and laid down on my bed, wanting to be left alone. My stupid ass step "dad" opened the door, told me to smile, and do something productive.

I'm depressed. I think I am at least.

And it's just going t get worse, in about three months, I'm moving. Maybe even a month early(May.) What a birthday present eh? I get to leave all my friends, everything I've worked so hard for. Best 15th ever.

Thanks for listening to me rant.