Alice

doll [tw]

huge trigger warning for sh and flashbacks. I will put a butterfly (🦋)where it starts, and another where it ends, which could very well be the next chapter. I'll post both chapters at the same time to keep the suspense from killing you.

I fall asleep on the couch and am woken up by Patrick.

"Rise and shine, kid, we have a hotel to check into." He says. I pack a few days worth of clothes into a small bag and follow him off the bus.

"Ah, Mikey, come here." Spencer says. I walk over and Spencer puts a pair of Chris' large sunglasses on my face. He pulls the hood up on the hoodie and I follow him inside.

"Hello sir, how may I help you?" The woman behind the front desk says.

"We called earlier, the name on the rooms should be Spencer Charnas." He says. The woman types something in and nods.

"We have you already checked in, Mr. Charnas. Here are your keys, the room numbers are written on them." She says, pushing 2 key cards forward.

"Can we get an extra bed put into room 304?" Spencer asks.

"The couch in that room should have a pull-out bed, but if it doesn't just call the desk and we can bring you another mattress." She says.

Spencer nods and takes the key cards. He hands one to Ricky and Joe. We all get in the elevator and go up to the third floor.

Ricky and Joe get room 303 while Spencer, Patrick, and I are in room 304. There is a bathroom connecting it to another room, I assume room 305.

As we settle in for the first day of real rest, I hear a knock from the connecting bathroom door. I walk over carefully, Spencer looks at me like I'm insane.

"You alright?"

"I heard knocking."

"From the bathroom?" Spencer laughs. "Mikey, I promise you there's no one in the bathroom, see?" He says, knocking on the door.

The door opens and August is standing on the other end. "I just wanted to make sure there wasn't a stranger sharing our bathroom." She says.

"While you're here, August, do you think you could help me figure out the pull-out bed?" Patrick asks.

"Oh, yeah sure," she says, walking into our room and over to the couch. She looks at it for a few seconds before grabbing a bar and pulling out the folding bed and mattress with ease.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"August?" Lonny shouts from the next room over.

"I should go back before Lonny has a fit," she jokes. I laugh and she goes back to her own hotel room through the bathroom.

We finish settling in and Justin drops by.

"Patrick and I are going out with the rest of the guys. Can I trust you here by yourself?" Spencer asks.

"Yeah, you 100% can." I say. Spencer looks at Justin, I think silently asking for advice.

"The first thing that kid was worried about the other day was getting taken away from you, I'm pretty damn sure they aren't going anywhere." Justin says.

"Was it really?" Spencer asks, looking back at me.

"I was having a panic attack, of course I was worried about that!" I defend.

"Fair enough. We'll be back in a few hours. Love you, kiddo." Spencer says, picking up his wallet and walking out of the room.

"Love you too!" I shout back.

I decide to lay down and take a nap again, since I was still tired. The nap earlier didn't really help but those bus couches aren't the most comfortable thing in the world.

It doesn't take long for me to slip into unconsciousness.

The nightmare wasn't really a nightmare, more a slideshow of faces and memories in fragments. The concepts of things that happened without the full memory.

I bolt awake, sitting up quickly. I'm shaking and sweating, and there are tears pouring down my face. I look down at my hands only to see them shake violently against my will.

I try to breathe but even my breath is shaky. It's fragmented and difficult, almost as if someone had tied a rope around my neck.

🦋🦋🦋

I put one hand on my neck and one hand on my chest. I have no idea what I was trying to achieve but it clearly didn't work.

I don't know what to do, I woke up to the worst panic attack I've had in my entire life. It feels like I could keel over dead at any second.

Suddenly I remember all of the times my brother and I argued. He always told me to kill myself, more than once he gave me the means to, and more than once I tried to od.

I stand up out of the bed and my knees shoot pain up through my legs and down to my ankles. I stay standing.

I walk towards the bathroom, the one that we share with August and Lonny. Maybe a bath will help, or at least sitting on the cold tile. I hope the temperature can bring me back to reality.

I open the door and sit at the edge of the tub. There's a few small hotel sized soaps, as well as a shower cap, some face wash, and a razor with no blade in it. On the counter next to the empty razor handle is a few stray razor blades.

The sight of them makes my skin crawl. It's never done that before.

My brain spits out images of my brother, dead on the ground, then images of what it may look like for me to use the razor blades for something other than shaving.

I shake my head violently, desperately trying to get the thought out of my head.

I've never done that, no matter how much I wanted to, I never did that. The thought alone terrifies me.

I change how I'm sitting so that I'm sitting in the tub. I lean against the side and just cry. It's hard to breathe. My mind is going a million miles an hour.

Go get August, or Lonny, or Andy, anyone.

I can't. I couldn't explain this to them no matter how hard I try. I just can't do it. The only people who will even know are Spencer, Patrick, and Justin. I wish spencer was here, he would know what to do.

I can probably guess what he would say too, something about not having to worry about him hurting me, telling me it'll be okay, telling me everything will be fine, comforting me, the way a dad is supposed to.

I notice that I've been scratching at the top of my arm, leaving red marks, some places even breaking skin but not bleeding.

I try to control my breathing but I can't. I try to ground myself as best as I can, focusing on the cold bathtub, on the sounds of Lonny and August next door, the lights in the room humming quietly.

I stand up and walk to the sink, splashing water in my face.

Suddenly the intrusive thoughts come back.

An image of myself dead in the bathtub with nothing but boxers and a binder. Why does my brain keep doing this to me? I can see it in such vivid detail that its almost like a memory.

I walk around the room, pacing back and fourth. I can start to feel my clothes rubbing against my skin, the way my jeans cling to my legs, the way my shirt sticks to my back, the way my socks wrap around my ankles. It all reminds me of the one thing I want to forget. My bio-dad.

I decide to lock the doors from both sides and take off everything that's bothering me. It's my only option. I just want the thoughts to stop.