Burnt Out

☆Confession☆

Ray

"Ray, wait!" Hayden called, following me.

I didn't stop. Instead, I walked faster, desperate to escape this house.

I loved parties. I loved the loud music that quieted my thoughts, the alcohol that let me loosen up once it was in my veins, and the people who were so drunk and high that they couldn't give two flying fucks about what anyone else was doing.

But right now, I felt anything but light. I felt suffocated. Suddenly, the people seemed too close. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, and my tight skirt and top clung to my body. It felt like I couldn't get enough oxygen, and I was acutely aware of each manual breath I took.

I saw Hayden with that girl, Leah.

Zeek told me she was his ex-girlfriend. I know I shouldn't have, but I followed him. They were holding hands.

I've kissed many people in my life. I barely remember most of them because I was probably drunk or high, but I couldn't stop thinking about my kiss with Hayden. I was sober, and even if I hadn't been, I know I would still remember it. I don't think I could ever forget the feeling of his lips on mine. He kissed me softly, not roughly like other guys would. He kissed me like I was something precious to be treasured, not like a thing to be owned. In that moment, I had felt seen and valued, a sensation so foreign it left me breathless.

Was he also thinking about the kiss like I was? Probably not. Maybe he kissed me back because he felt pity or didn't want to embarrass me by rejecting me.

My heart ached. He deserved the best, but I was the worst.

He didn't deserve to be with someone like me—emotionally unstable and a mental mess. He shouldn't have to be worried all the time, scared that I might kill myself. He deserved to be with someone happy. Someone normal.

I think Hayden just saw me as someone who needed to be saved.

He shouldn't feel like he has to save me. Besides, I don't think I can be saved.

When I was with him, I felt good, but when I was alone, I slipped back into the dark place I was in. He was a lantern in my dark forest, casting light that I couldn't find on my own. Eventually, he would get tired of being my light. The wind would be too much, making his light waver. I didn't want to extinguish his light, so it was better for me to stay alone in the dark forest.

While I had been so focused on keeping my light from going out, the wolf attacked.

When Jake shoved me into that empty room, I froze, just like I had that day. It was as if I was reliving the nightmare. My body was there, but mentally, I was checked out. The air felt thick in my lungs. Something snapped inside me when he grabbed the back of my neck to pull me closer. I wasn't going to let myself freeze like before. I kneed him in the balls and punched his face hard, feeling the crunch of bone under my fist, knocking him out cold.

What he said before I knocked him out kept replaying in my head like a broken record.

He told me I was nothing more than my looks. Just a doll with no personality, there to sit and look pretty. Maybe he was right. What did I do? I went to parties and got drunk out of my mind. I rotted in bed. Occasionally, I painted if I had the energy. Most of the time  I was just so fucking sad to do anything.

I didn't even know who I was anymore. I was whatever people said I was. I don't think I was always like this. I used to have a personality, I guess. I'm not trying to be arrogant, but when you're pretty, that's the first thing people notice about you. Sure, it's fun at first, but after a while, it's exhausting when you realize that's all people care about. They don't care about who you are, what you like, or anything beyond your appearance. Eventually, I think that's all I became. That's all I am—a pretty outer shell, hollow on the inside.