Hollow Highs [h.s]

17.

The smell of bleach caused Eliana to scrunch her nose up in distaste. She ignored the chatter of everyone, their small laughs and their glowing aura that only seemed to irk her.

She couldn't sleep last night. All she could hear were the taunting whispers of her mother, her eyes felt as if they were on fire. Her lips were chapped, her throat was dry. Her skin was pale.

She scanned the small room, full of people. Nothing seemed new, everything seemed ordinary. She yawned and sat down on a chair, looking outside the window.

Summer had come to an end meaning that New York was to receive snow any time soon. The warm air had been substituted with an occasional cool gush of wind, her days of stolen swims at The Rocky Creek Cottage were coming to an end nonetheless.

She liked summer, she liked the way everything would seem brighter and vibrant but her love for winter exceeded that of anything.

She loved the multiple snow falls New York had the chance to witness. The Rocky Creek Cottage looked mystical while it snowed, the whole extent of it would be covered by a delicate sheath of white snow making it look like a sight straight out of a Grimm fairy tale.

The small bell on top of the opposite main wall rang. Eliana peeled her eyes away from fiddling with the tears in her oversized jeans to the source of the noise.

John sat there, the ugly guitar right behind him with a smile on his face. He wore a rainbow tie, with words scribbled all over it.

The blue seat next to her, where Zayn usually sat was left vacant today. She wondered where he was.

A girl, who sat on her right side noticed her peering over the empty seat. She pushed her blonde hair away from her face before speaking to Eliana.

"He relapsed." She said. Eliana furrowed her brows at the news.

"Sorry, who relapsed?" She asked her.

"Zayn."

The same boy who had a smile on his face, with gorgeous honey brown eyes had relapsed. The boy she thought had steered himself away from this perpetual madness had relapsed. The boy, who helped her get through the multiple sessions of support group and relapsed.

Zayn had relapsed.

"How did it happen?" She asked her the blonde next to her who was the least interested in hearing what John had to say.

"Some say it happened at a party, he drank alcohol and one thing led to another. I think he was bored." She said.

It was then that she realised, if Zayn could relapse, so could she. Sobriety wasn't just what she took, it was what her brain made her do.

"I mean, yes we're sinking but the music is exceptional."

Zayn's words loitered in her brain. She missed his witty remarks, his silent laugh. She missed him showing her pictures of him and his girlfriend at various places.