Deception |H.S|

Eight

Tw.
This chapter can maybe be a bit triggering for some people, so I'll just put the tw, so you're warned.
Start the song when you see ** for a better experience<3

Dear diary.

A whole week has passed, and I haven't gone out of my room since.
Abigail is worried about me.
The last few days she's been home, just to take care of me.
Dad isn't really worried tho.
He hasn't even notice how bad I'm feeling.
Even though I'm more than grateful for Abigail, that couldn't cover up for how angry I am right now.
She called our doctor this morning, and got an appointment for me.
Like old days. When mom passed.
I know she does this because she's worried about me, but I don't need help or anyone to feel bad for me.
I'm doing fine, and it's normal for me to feel like this.
I wish people talked about mental health the way they talk about physical health.
Nobody take mental health seriously.
That's also why so many people have died of suicide.
If it was normal to talk about mental health, I'd be able to answer the question "are you okay?" Honestly.
Without putting up my usual lie, "yea, I'm just tired"
It sound stupid, and pathetic, but I don't even know if I want to feel better.
I feel safe like this, cause I've felt like this for months.
If I get better, will I then miss the feeling and the urge to hurt myself like old days?
I don't know. Maybe?

I was lying in my bed, my face buried in the pillows, as I was having a mental breakdown.
Just the thought of leaving the apartment, and then to the fucking doctor!

"Rosalina get out of your fucking bed, right now!"
Abigail yelled storming into my room for the third time.

"But you don't understand it!" I grumbled, pulling the duvet over my head.

"Yes I do!" She defended pulling it off of my whole body, the cold hitting my back immediately.

"Look I can literally see how bad you're doing, and we both know dads not gonna do anything, so I am. Now get the fuck out of bed, or I'll drag you!"

Her words made me turn my head to look at her, and when my eyes met hers, I felt the guilt building up in my chest.

I know she was trying to help, but my anxiety has been at it's peak the last couple of weeks, and I was just so scared of another panic attack.

"Please" she begged falling down on her knees, so we were same level.

"Fine!" I sighed storming out of bed and out of my room, right into the bathroom, feeling her eyes burn into the back of my neck, as they followed me.

I pulled a face wipe out of its plastic package, and ran it under my eyes and over the rest of my face, to remove the sweat and my old makeup. Abigail followed me into the bathroom and posed behind me. I looked at her through the mirror and I could see the concerned look on her face.

She gently grabbed my slightly messy hair, and began by braiding it into a loose one.
After that she let it hang down along my back, but before she headed out of the bathroom again, she shook me by my shoulders, and kissed the back of my neck.

She disappeared into the kitchen, where I followed her and started to take on my old, worn black converse.

"You know I only do this because I love you, right?" She said, breaking the loud silence.