Before fame; a 5sos fanfic

Chapter 10

Clarissa:

Sam.

That's all I could think about; Sam. He was...he was everything to me. He was the only boy I really loved. I fell for him so hard, I've still got bruises. He never actually did anything, he just had to be... Sam, and I turned into a complete... girl. He just made me feel so... I don't even know how to explain it. He just.... everything he did made me happy, except for when he broke up with me, of course. That hurt, like hell. He became something I needed, and when he left.... I was going through what felt like...withdrawals? Yeah. That's the best way to explain, I guess. He was a drug, and when I could no longer had him, my life came crashing down. He was addicting and he got me so high, I never wanted to come down. Everyone told me that he was dangerous, but I looked past the tough-guy exterior and found the adorable, dorky, gentle, sweet, funny, boy he could be. He had been hurt before I came along, and he had closed himself off from everyone. It had taken a while to break down his walls, but once I had, and he opened up and let me in, it was...I never wanted to leave. He was my best friend, he was my kryptonite. He was a drug, and my remedy. He made me laugh and cry. He was a brother and a lover. He was a shoulder to lean on, as was I, to him. I had always been comfortable with him, though his insecurities had delayed his ability to trust me. I think I annoyed him at first; I basically bugged him until he agreed to go on a date with me. A study date, mind you, but a date nonetheless. We ate popcorn and watched movies; no studying was done at all. We somehow ended up kissing, him in top of me while we laid on the floor. He wasn't too muscular, he was actually kind of skinny and average height, but I honestly prefer guys that aren't buff. I don't know why, I just like guys that don't have big arms. Maybe they remind me of all the cat-calling jocks at school, I don't know. Sam was perfect, he was my type in every way, he was my dream guy. I know that sounds weird, he was the shy, unpopular boy that wore baggy band hoodies and sat in the back of class, but that was just my type. I don't like popular people. They're all bitches and assholes. They all have huge egos and I hate being considered one of them. I try to be that one girl who is nice to everybody, but I just can't stand egotistical popular people. I mean, when people are sarcastic and witty, they may seem like they have egos, but thats different. That's sarcasm. That's used as a defense, a way to shield yourself from people or their words. Sometimes sarcasm doubles as humor. The popular people that I'm supposed to hang out with, they pick on people and treat others like complete shit, they worry about their bodies (cough cough, boobies, cough) and their hair, who's throwing the next big party, if there's gonna be free beer at said party, et cetera, et cetera. That's all they talk about. That's why I sit with Calum, Luke, Ashton and Michael at lunch. Sometimes they sit with big-headed jocks, though, if they can't find a table, and then I basically spend lunch killing multiple people in my head instead of eating. And afterwards, there's a jock waiting at my locker, ready to ask for my number. Ugh.

I don't like jocks.

At all.

Not one bit.

I hate them, actually.

Hate is a strong word, yes, but that's why I used it. I feel very strongly towards the football team, in a very bad way. I hate them all.

Every. Last. One.

They should focus on something other than making girls swoon.

Not that I swoon.

Only Sam can make me swoon.

Sam.

Oh god, I need to stop thinking of this kid. He doesn't want me back. He never will. I don't deserve someone like him, I never will. He's like, Jesus, and I'm an ant. No god wants to kiss an ant or show off an ant.

Why do people always tell me to think more positive? There are plenty of positive thoughts in my head.

Ha.

Not.

There's this theory that, when you die and go to hell, you're 'hell' is your worst nightmare or something. You create your own hell. Well, when I go to hell, I'm going to be suck in my head. My thoughts will be impersonated and look like witches, maybe even goblins or something, because that's what they are. My thoughts are these ugly, unwanted creatures that can make me sick, they can kill me. They're always there, but I can't see them. They harass me and taunt me, they never let me be. I'm trapped, there's no escaping the monsters in my head. What a cliche, but it's true. Most people don't really understand that phrase, but I know exactly how it feels to have monsters in your head. They are these...well, monsters. I have the devil in my head, he fills my brain with unhappy thoughts and makes me feel bad about me, myself and I. He makes me second-guess my decisions and makes me feel like I fucked up everything. And, what I hate the most, those monsters are me. They're in my mind, they are me and they'll eventually kill me. That makes no sense. Truest words I've ever spoken, though. My mom tells me all the time that it'll get better, easier, but its been so hard and, I'm afraid it's never going to get better. Never. Ashley was the only one who I could talk to about these things, and now she's gone, because of me. Then Sam came, and I told him everything. I told him more than I told Calum, more than I told Luke. And then, he left, too. Nobody ever stays. God has taken his angels away from me, left me alone to fend myself, to try and fight my demons. I need help. I'm slipping fast, I'm slipping... and I can't... I don't think I'll be able to pull myself back out if I fall again. I need... someone. I need Ashley... She's gone. I need Sam... He's gone. I need my dad, but he left me too. I need somebody that knows everything. I need somebody I can trust, who won't laugh. I need someone who knows just what to say. I need somebody who I know will listen. I need...

I need Luke.