Dreams

Anxiety

Claires POV

The days seemed to be passing in a blur, I don’t remember doing much of anything. I would wake up in the morning, go to sleep at night, and repeat. The stress and anxiety I felt was tremendous, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask Michael for any help.

Each night held a dream. But it was always one of the same two. In one of them, I was in the airport with Michael, but I don’t know why. I told him I had to go to the bathroom, but along the way something changed my mind. I ran to the ticket kiosk, and bought a ticket for what seemed to be a random flight. In the other dream, the plane was touching down, and I was getting off. Once I stepped into the airport, a man approached me. He said something, but I couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Whatever it was, it made me go with him.

As the days continued to pass, the dreams still came and the stress level did nothing but rise. I had stopped eating, thankfully Michael hadn’t really noticed yet, so he didn’t question me about it. I stopped talking as much too, whenever he would say something to me, I’d reply with simple, concise answers. Short and sweet, right?

As my anxiety got worse, I ended up doing something I never thought I would…

[A/N]: Warning! The following part may contain material that could be triggering to some people.

I was in the bathroom, shaving, like any normal girl. But as I drug the razor up my leg, I cut myself. It hurt, and started bleeding. I cleaned it up, and put a bandage over it, but after doing so, I realized something. The pain had made me forget just about everything else. I couldn’t focus on what was going on through my head, all my attention was towards the pain I had felt.

I picked up the razor, and after a few minutes, had it broken. I drew a bath, and sat in the warm water. Yeah, I was still wearing my tanktop and shorts, but I didn’t really care, not at this moment.

I brought my arm up and stared at the smooth, tan skin. Was I really about to do this? I asked myself. Yeah, I was. In one quick, swift movement, I sliced the blade across my wrist. I did it over, and over, and over, until most of my forearm was covered in cuts. I lowered my arm into the water, and watched as the blood seeped out, turning the water a shade of pink.

“Claire? Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.” I heard Michael’s voice come from outside the door.

“mmmhmm” I tried to tell him I was, but all that came out was an unintelligible groan. I heard the door open, oops, didn’t lock it. Michael walked in, but after that I don’t remember anything.

*Some time later*

I woke up feeling really dizzy. I tried to sit up, but that didn’t end to well. I looked around, well, as much as I could laying down, and realized that I was in Michaels room.

“Just stay laying down, you’re probably still really dizzy” Michael said, walking through the door and sitting next to me.

Suddenly, the memories of what I did in the bathroom came back, and I started crying.

“Michael, I’m sorry…” I kept repeating that phrase to him.

“Claire, I’m not mad at you,” He said, his voice soft.

“Y-you’re not?” I mumbled.

“No! I’m just worried about you. Why would you do that to yourself?” his eyes held so much hurt, and it pained me to know that I was the one that caused it.

“There’s just been so much stress lately, and I-I didn’t know how to handle it.” I tried explain my reasoning, but even to me it sounded stupid.

“Claire, I understand. But don’t do that! Don’t ever hurt yourself again! If you’re stressed, come talk to me,”

“Alright,” I sighed, he was right. I should have just talked to him in the first place.

“Promise me that you’ll never cut yourself again” Michael’s voice was pleading.

“I promise, Michael. I’ll talk to you, and I’ll never do this again,” I tried sitting up again, and was successful. I leaned against the headboard and Michael moved to sit next to me. “I had more dreams…” I said softly.

“When? And what were they about?”

“I’ve been having them every night since that first one. Its either of me running away from you, or me getting off the plane and going with this weird man…” I explained my dreams to him.

“Well, like I said before, if we go to the airport, then I’m not letting you go off on your own,” Michael stated.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed and lifted up my now bandaged left arm. “Michael, I’m so sorry…and thank you for helping me,” my voice cracked and I knew I was about to cry again. Michael noticed and he pulled me into a hug.

We sat like that for a while, hugging each other, not saying anything. It was a comfortable silence.

(A/N): There wont be many scenes with her self harming, and sorry if it bothered you. [If any of you guys ever need someone to talk to, message me] thanks for reading. :D