Paper Birds

Chapter Thirty-Seven ; Guns But No Roses

The plane ride home was brutal. I only had five minutes to say goodbye to everyone and it killed me on the inside. I was thrilled to be back with what was left of my family and help Jonah and Tiffani with the wedding, but leaving Harry was like a bullet through my heart that would never heal. It also meant I'd have to go back to the wonderous expirience of therapy. If they could help me not become legally insane that'd be great, though from our progress so far it doesn't look like that's going to happen any time soon. 

I was truly scared. I was scared that my life was slipping out of my hands, scared that I may not recognize that's wrong and what's right anymore, scared that I won't ever be okay again. I just wanted to recover.

I've seen death. I was almost a part of death. I've seen things that other girls only imagine in their worst nightmares, expirienced things that will leave me battered and scarred. Yet I don't try to think about it. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I'm too afraid to face them and accept that these things have happened and there's nothing you can do about it except stay out of trouble.

You're The Doomed.

Was I? Was I doomed? It looked like it, so far. I can't believe everything that has happened in the past month. I have a super-star, millionare boyfriend, I was almost kidnapped, I was almost shot, I was almost killed, I was almost shot again at school, and I'm slowly loosing my mind. It just didn't seen realistic, at all. It could've been just a dream. I closed my eyes and pinched my arm, deciding afterwards that it wasn't a dream. It sure seemed like a dream. A twisted, drastic dream. Someone obviously likes seeing me suffer.

I was disgusted with myself. It was all because of my stupid decisions, stupid money driving me into chaos. All because I coudn't accept Jared's death. It didn't even happen suddenly; they knew he only had so much time to live, they knew he would die and they couldn't stop the inevitable. I don't blame them. I don't blame anyone. Those doctors seen a lot more death than I have.

And now I'm a world-wide phenomenon. Harry Styles' girlfriend, the one who took the wrong path and got herself into a boat load of trouble. The one who gambles, the one who will only bring Harry down a more than a couple of notches. The dangerous one.

I probably scared a ton of people. I'm not scary, though. It's just how my life portrays me to be. I felt like I was trapped; trapped in a world of nightmares, stereotypes, and questioning sanity. I've seen Twitter. The majorty of One Direction fans hate me. One part being Harry Styles' girlfriend, two parts my history. It was horrible. What if Harry eventually agreed with them? She's only pulling you into a dismal horror story, Harry. Don't get sucked in. What if he gets scared of me? I don't know what I would do without him. He made me feel like I wasn't worthless, he made me feel alive again. I have my brothers, but they're busy all of the time. I'd have no one. I'm pretty convinced I lost Abby. I don't blame her, though. I'd hate myself, too. I hate myself right now. 

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm not stronger, I'm weaker. Does that mean I'm dead, then? Dead on the inside, masked by a live appearance? What doesn't kill me screws me up mentally. 

I knew my sanity was slipping out of my grasp and there was nothing I could do about it.

I finally got off of the plane, Jonah and Robbie there to greet me. They smiled and laughed and pulled me into a big hug, but I couldn't hear anything. Everything was blurry.

"Claire?"

"Are you okay?"

I could barely make out their voices. "I'm fine," I whispered. 

I forced and smile and hugged them back, grins on their faces returning. 

"Let's get you home, Clairedy," Robbie said with his arm around my shoulder.