The Worst Fall // H.S (On Hold)

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"PTSD: a condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world."

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I tossed around in bed, trying to find a comfortable position for me to fall back asleep in. However, nothing seemed to satisfy me. I was starting to get a slight headache from the constant mumbling that was coming from somewhere in my room. Oh...it was this again.

I tossed my covers off of me and stood up stretching. The only source of light in my room was from the street lights outside, which were shining through my blinds. However, it was four in the morning, so I knew the sun was going to come up soon. I took my meds, like every other day, and checked my phone for any new text messages. I had quite a few from my "so called friends" and many from Ash. He was my best friend...and maybe my only real friend. But, he was all I needed, so I was fine with that.

I hopped into my shower and quickly got it over with. Once I had wrapped myself up in my fluffy pink towel, I walked over to the bathroom mirror. I saw a girl standing right in front of me. She had long brown hair and enticing green eyes. You could see black bags under them, from all the sleepless nights she had, which were replaced with rather horrifying nightmares. She was still quite the view, but that was all on the outside. Of course, no one ever saw or even knew what was going on from within her. She was dying. The scars on her right arm were proof of that.

I wiped the fog off of the mirror, in hopes that maybe she would go away, but that didn't happen. She still stood there staring at me; with her hand also placed on the mirror.

Snap out of it!

I scurried out of my bathroom and over to my dresser, picking out an outfit for today. Yes, I don't have many friends, but that doesn't mean I don't want to look nice. I opted with a pair of black skinny jeans that were ripped at the knees, an oversized grey knit jumper, my favorite black Doc Martens, and a beanie to top it off. I quickly dried my hair as fast as I could and plugged in my curling iron.

It was currently 5:30, so I still had time to put my makeup on. I never applied too much. Everything was all natural, but you can still tell that I was wearing some. I checked to see if the wand was hot enough and then got started on the curls. There was something about looking good that made me feel a little less like I was suffering. I guess everyone has their own guilty pleasure if you will. They find something that keeps them happy, and don't let go. That's how I felt towards fashion. It made me feel like a whole different person...at least during the day.

I heard some noise in the kitchen and knew that my mother had woken up. She usually gets up pretty early like me, since she's a medical assistant. That being said, she gets called in at crazy hours of the day, so I'm usually alone at home. Of course, I always invite Ashton over, but other then him it's just me. We don't really talk about my father. He had passed away from severe heart malfunctions when I was just a child. I don't remember much of his presence, but I still did miss him...a lot. Not as much as my mother though. I usually catch her staring off into space and don't even have to ask what she's thinking about. I already knew it was him. Sometimes, I feel as if I'm a burden to her. I mean who wants to take care of a teenager who has PTSD right?

Exactly...no one.

When I was done, I unplugged my curling iron and safely put it away, while taking my phone off charge. I was meant to text Ashton back, since he usually let me car pool with him, and I knew he would be mad at me. Unlike my other friends, Ashton always insisted that I ask him for help, whenever I needed it. He had been there for me when I was at my worst, and that's why I trusted him so much. Now I know you may be thinking "Well, is there some type of romance involved in this relationship between you two?" and the answer is no. He always felt like a brother to me, and I knew he thought the same about me. However, that didn't stop people from asking me about our "relationship" status everyday. But, I learned to ignore them.