chapter forty
INTERVENTION🥀
Edith
» » WHEN I WAS SIXTEEN, I experienced my first ever hangover. To be completely honest, the Yule Ball in my sixth year was the first time I was ever drunk off my mind. I had spent Christmas Eve chatting to some of my classmates whilst swaying to the music playing in the background. The Weird Sisters, my favourite band ever had been playing all night, and I soon found myself wishing the night would never end. Usually, I wasn't much for partying or socialising with other people except for the twins, so that night has pretty much been imprinted in my mind ever since then.
I had fun, perhaps a little too fun, and I woke the following morning to the worst hangover of my life. Well, it was my first, but it sure as hell felt like it couldn't get much worse than that. My head was pounding, it felt like something was trying to break free from inside there, and by morning, I had gone to the bathroom to spill out my guts about six times already. I guess it's safe to say, I laid off the Fire Whiskey for a few months after that.
Ever since then, I've dreaded the feeling of waking up the morning after a night out, and I usually stop drinking whenever I notice I'm getting a bit too drunk.
This wasn't entirely the case the weeks after mine and Fred's break up though.
"You can't be getting drunk off your ass every other night and walking about town. What if something happened to you—what if you got hurt? Then what?"
After I got to the flat that same night I left Ravi's bed, Violet had ushered me inside, a stoic expression across her face. I could tell she was mad by the sound of her voice alone, and a part of me felt guilty for the state she found me in. However, an even bigger part of me thought it best to just laugh it off, to pretend as if things were okay, when in fact, I was only kidding myself.
I was a mess. I just didn't want to admit it to myself, because if I did, well then that would mean it was all real. That would mean facing the reality; that I was losing myself.
"God, are you even listening to me?", the blonde asked, clearly annoyed at my childish behaviour. I was simply scoffing, getting myself comfortable in the davenport I slept in while living with her. "Edith?". She sighed, seating herself beside me and placing a gentle hand on my back. "Look—I know that you're going through something right now, and I know how you must be feeling. But believe me when I say, I only want what's best for you, and so do the others. We all care about you, and we just want to see you happy again."
I scoffed, moving away from her touch. I was slowly but surely becoming considerably more sober. "Yeah, well I am. In fact I'm doing better than I ever was."
"We both know that's a lie."
"It's not. I don't know what you want me to say, V. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I don't need you babysitting me all the time."
Silence broke out. I kept trying to fall asleep, I didn't really want to talk to her about it. I just wanted to forget whatever happened between me and Fred, it was one of the main reasons why I even turned to alcohol in the first place. Drinking was the only time when I felt myself in control, the only time when I could focus on something else other than my broken heart. It was easy, and in a way I guess it made me feel free. Free of the guilt, free of the anger. It just so happened that whenever morning came again and the alcohol was off my system, I was back on square one. All of my intrusive thoughts returned, and I found myself an emotional wreck once again. It was a shit way of coping, and I didn't want to acknowledge that.
"I called the others. They'll be here any minute."
"What?" I raised a brow.
"You can't be doing this anymore—it's not good for you. You need help, Edith. Even if you don't realise it."
"Are you kidding me? You have no right to dictate my life! I decide what I can and cannot do. I'm fine, brilliant even, and I don't need you or anyone else to tell me how to live my life." I stood up from the davenport abruptly, my legs nearly giving away under me. I might have been drunk still, but I sure as hell wasn't about to let anyone tell me what to do, especially not my friends. I was blinded by all that had happened, oblivious to how my actions affected the people around me as well as my own mental health. I couldn't see what it was doing to the people in my life, or maybe I could but just didn't want to see it. Whatever it was, it broke my heart seeing the tears in Violets eyes, the way she was silently pleading for me to cooperate. To accept the help she was offering.
Before I had the chance to scream at her any further, I heard the popping sound of someone Apparating inside the flat. I turned around to see Ravi, Charlie, Floran, Cerise and... Fred.
"Great." I muttered sarcastically under my breath, staring furiously at Violet. "You're all here."
As Violet got the others up to speed about what I had been doing and the facts that I had shown up home both drunk and high as fuck, I couldn't help but to glance over at Fred. He wasn't giving me the time of day, yet I kept my eyes pierced at him, hoping he would notice and finally look at me.
He didn't. If it wasn't for the fact that I knew the sole reason why they were all there, to make sure I got "the help I needed", I wouldn't have believed he even cared about me still. In fact, it felt like our break up hadn't affected him at all, but that I was the only one hurting because of it.
Little did I know, the boy I loved so wholeheartedly and feverishly, had been struggling nearly just as much as myself. He was just better than me at pretending.
"I don't understand why you've all bothered to show up here at all. I'm doing perfectly fine as it is, I don't need you all to hold my hand and tell me it will all be alright, okay? I'm way past that. Frankly, I don't need anything from any of you."
To that, Violet stayed silent, Ravi dragged a hand through his black hair, Charlie placed his on mine, and Fred scoffed.
"Is there something you want to say?" I asked him, a frown very much prominent on my face. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why he was angry all of a sudden. He hadn't even acknowledged me all night. "Why are you even here?"
"I would actually", he started, his voice not as tender and loving as I had come to know it. "And to answer your question; I'm here because I care about you. We all do—and if you think I'm just going to stand idly and watch you ruin your life, then you couldn't be more wrong. You need help, Edith."
I looked at my friends, tears threatening to fall from my eyes, but I refused to let them. I didn't want to give them more reason to think I was doubting any of the decisions I had made so far. I didn't want to prove them all right, despite how aware I was of the fact that, in truth—they all were.
So instead of giving in, or doing anything they probably expected me to be doing, I simply turned my heals around and Apparated. I didn't know were I was going, I just knew I needed to get away from that place. From all of them.
I knew I needed help, but I wasn't about to admit it to them, never mind myself.
⬩ word count: 1399
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