Chiara Rose

cinquantanove

tw - mention of alcohol, drugs, self harm, suicide and mental health issues.

Chiara's POV

I wake up to a heavy arm spread across my face and someone's knee digging into my back. I don't even have to turn around to know it's Carlo, considering most times I share a bed with him we wake up like this.

It takes me a while to figure out why my head is pounding like crazy and my vision is groggier then usual. But then all the memories from yesterday and more specifically last night crash into me.

The party, and a whole lot of stupid shit I did at the party. I don't even remember how many people I hooked up with last night, the hickeys on my chest give me a good enough idea. I lost track of how much I drank, and then throw in a line or two of coke and a few joints.

I secretly know that deep down I did it because I want help without needing to ask for it. Because I know somethings going on, and that I'm definitely not okay. But I have chosen to ignore it from now on, hopefully my brothers just think I was being an idiot.

Speaking of brothers, behind me Carlo moves himself so now he's got a knee digging into my back and now his freezing feet are touching mine. So, I bite his arm to try and get him to back off.

"What the fuck Chiara!" Carlo screeches. I don't know why he's over reacting and yelling so loud, I barely even grazed my teeth on his arm.

"Don't yell." I grumble, grabbing a pillow from somewhere on the bed and stuffing it over my head and face. Trying to black out some of the noise and annoying light, why am I so agitated this morning? Also my throat really fucking hurts.

"Boo fucking hoo, you're the one who decided to go and get drunk last night. Oh, and high." Carlo snorts, clearly finding all of this amusing. I don't have the energy to verbally respond, so I just flip the bird in the direction I hope he's in.

A gentle silence settled over the room, letting me wallow in my own embarrassment. I was so embarrassing last night, from the way I acted, to the way I treated other people. Then I went ahead and relapsed and threw up all my food, all because Mum visited me in a dream and told me I was pregnant.

I mean, what on Earth is wrong with me?

"What's going on Ki?" Carlo says softly, breaking the silence. He starts gently trying to lift the pillow off my face, and I loosen my grip and let him. I get a little surprise when I see how close his face is to my face, but it goes away when I take in how truely worried he looks.

I don't respond as I just sit there and look at him. I'm being an idiot, doing all this dumb stuff. I didn't realise how much my actions were impacting them, let alone myself.

"I don't know." I manage to croak, turning my face to look at the ceiling and breaking eye contact from him. I don't want to look at his annoyingly worried face, he shouldn't be worried. He shouldn't be worried about me, he should be mad for goodness sakes.

"Chiara," Carlo begins, but I quickly cut him off.

"I'm gonna go for a skate." The excuse comes out of my mouth before I even have the chance to think it through. I haven't skated in months, not sure why I'm suddenly thinking it's a good idea.

"Oh, um okay." Carlo says and I'm already halfway into my closet. I feel so groggy and in need of a lot of pain medication.

"I'm gonna go get something to eat, I'll be downstairs if you need me." He yells through my closed closet door, and then it's quickly followed by the sound of my bedroom door opening and then closing.

I put on my sports bra in a daze, then followed by a navy blue pair of leggings and matching cropped long sleeve shirt. I freeze a little as I grab my ice skates out of their box, a photo of Mum and me somehow falling out of nowhere.