72 hours

Complicated

Aliyah POV

Monday 8pm
I spent the past hour cleaning my room, making sure all the clothes were neatly folded and my bed was perfectly made. I picked up the last piece of trash off the floor, tossing it into the trash bag, and grabbed the bag and leaving to throw it out.

When I came back, I stood in the doorway scanning everything to make sure it looked perfect. I felt a tear fall down my face realizing this would be the last time I saw my room.

I had to make sure it was clean and perfect, so no one would have to bother to clean it up. I already knew no one would care and would most likely throw everything out, but this way they had less work. I refused to leave knowing everything was a mess.

I always tried my best to not have people worried about me. I tried my best to make sure no one knew what was really going on inside my head, and how bad my mind eats me alive. Whenever someone unexpected takes their own life everyone says "check up on those you love" or "check up on the happiest people" but no one really does.

If someone were to ask me what's wrong, I'd give them a simple "nothing" but hundreds of things will start flooding my brain all at once. I hate those rare times where someone does ask, because it creates a crack in the wall I've built that holds everything back.

I've done my best to hide the fact that I'm dying inside, that I'm slowly running out of energy. It's easier to fake everything, but the second I'm alone I become exhausted, as if I just worked for twelve hours at the most hardest job in the world.

I hate how one second im okay, and the next i'm not. I want to enjoy so many things, but it gets ruined within seconds, as I think about all the negative possibilities.

I just wanted one good day. One final day where I felt like I had no worries at all, where all my laughs were genuine, and I felt comfortable enough with my smile.

The last time I had a semi-good day was months ago. It started out with my mom yelling at me for being the reason she had to get a second job, since "I'm lazy" and "can't help provide for the house." I called jess after that happened, and we went out to a diner. I got a burger and a strawberry milk shake, one of the best milk shakes I've ever had. After we ate we went to watch the sunset.

Even though my day started out rough, I still had a good time. That was until we got close to my house, and that good feeling came to a stop. I realized I'd have to face my mom again. I knew she wouldn't be home by the time I got there, but knowing I'd have to face her eventually, scared me.

When I got home that night, I went straight to bed. Jess stayed with me and made sure I was okay, refusing to leave until I fell asleep just to make sure everything was okay. She ended up staying the night since it was already late.

Ever since that incident, my mom barely talks to me. She's barely even home now, but even when she is, she's asleep or just purposely ignoring me. I don't really blame her though.

I was worried about Jess bringing it up again, but she never did. She'd occasionally ask if everything was okay at home, and she'd sleep over just to make sure I wasn't lying to her. I used to think me and her were inseparable.

Once my mind started to start worsen, every time I felt like I was in a good place or had a good time, deep in my mind I knew it wasn't going to last.

I realized I was standing in the doorway for awhile, and made my way over towards my mirror. I stood a couple inches away, staring at my own reflection. I focused on my once hazel eyes, that were now dark, baggy and covered in pain. My eyebrows that I've never plucked but still somehow maintained a good shape. My small nose that somehow looked too big on me. My cheeks that weren't big enough to be chubby, but not slim enough to show off my cheek bones. I shifted my mouth, creating a fake smile, staring at my crooked teeth. I quickly closed my mouth, and went back to looking at my own eyes.

The eyes were always my favorite part of a person. I always thought you can tell a lot about someone based on their eyes. You can tell whether they're happy, sad, lying, tired and so much more. I always thought of them like a painting. When you stand far away, you see the overall idea, but when you get close you can see all the different textures and colors.

My mind instantly went to Billie. Her eyes were a light blue, but yet when you stood close enough, the base of her eyes were a lighter blue, almost grey. They reminded me a lot about the ocean. The blue representing the water and the lighter color was tips of the waves.

I knew I had a small crush on Billie. It started when we were at the park. The way she made me feel slightly better, and kept me apart from my mind. When I stayed at her house, she did her best to make me feel comfortable and protect me.

I sighed and closed my eyes as I rested my forehead on the mirror. Why is everything so complicated?

27 hours