It's a Love/Hate Thing // 1D

1. Support Group

Ben and Jerry's ice cream at 11pm.

I had eaten about 11 tubs full this past week. Actually, I wasn't sure whether I was consuming the ice cream itself, or a combination of that and my tears.

I hated to say this, but I was an emotional wreck. I was never like that. Ever. Usually, I was a chipper, outgoing, bubbly girl who had an upbeat step, but now I was too heartbroken to even leave my room, with the kitchen as an exception (of course).

I didn't know what to do. I knew for sure that I didn't want to see their rotten faces again.

Let me explain myself.

After being in a relationship with my so called 'boyfriend' for two years, I just recently found out he'd been sleeping with my best friend for over two months. That dickhead was something I used to love. I got betrayed not once, but twice.

So, if you'd like the same effect, just repeatedly stab yourself in the chest until your heart is smashed into 1,000 tiny pieces.

Rebekah was someone I'd been trusting since kindergarten; she knew all my secrets and basically everything about me. There was no way I could forgive her for what she did. I wasn't sure whether it was her huge boobs or huge ass that got all the guys to get in her pants - probably both now that I think of it. But out of all the guys she could've got, she chose mine.

More importantly, that was the end of boys for me. Why had I thrown myself at him for two years, giving him all my trust and affection, only for him to go banging my best friend.

*cough* EX-best friend.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder: was it me? Did I do something to anger them so they did this to get back at me? Maybe they didn't like my personality. I became wrapped up in my own thoughts and lost track of time. I checked the clock.

1:45am. Shit.

I had a support group in the morning. Trust me, I didn't WANT to go. I wasn't depressed. I didn't have anxiety. I wasn't crushed or heartbroken or mislead or angry or... Well maybe I was a few of those things. My overly protective mother insisted that I go.

Just seven days and then I could be out of that place.

With that, I closed my eyes and slowly drifted off into dreamland... I mean nightmare-ville because that was what the beginning of my summer would be like.

_______________________________________________________________________

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"noooooo," I moaned as I pulled the covers back over my head, smacking the snooze button with my hand. I was so comfortable, even content with missing the support group.

I was slowly falling back asleep when my mothers' high pitched voice echoed throughout the halls, "Clara!" She sung as if birds would magically appear amongst her, "Are you ready for an exciting day?!"

I sighed and sunk deeper into my velvety covers, "no, let me sleep!" My tousled chocolate hair was a mane around my pillow.

After twenty minutes of bickering with my mother, I finally got dressed and ready. while brushing my teeth in the bathroom, I observed my face. It was oval shaped, and my dark brown hair that went just past my shoulders complimented it nicely. I had a small nose that I didn't mind too much. My lips were fairly average as well as my ears. One thing I was never fond of was my eyes. Out of all the eye colours I could've had, I was born with boring grey eyes. Apparently I had 'almond eyes'. Almonds? More like deformed grapes! I stopped checking myself out in the mirror, slightly agitated, and went to change my clothes.

Soon I was wearing a white flowy tank top with floral shorts, nothing special. I left my hair natural in its half wavy state and slumped down the stairs for breakfast.

"Mom, for the last time," I protested, "Im not depressed or suicidal! Im going through a problem right now that I can easily handle myself!" My mother came by with a bowl of oatmeal with shredded coconut on top. I stared at the little flakes and started moving them around with my spoon.

"Honey, I know what's best, I always do," I rolled my eyes at that comment, making sure she would see, "I believe you'll get a lot out of this support group. Just go for the first few days, and if you don't like it, we can reconsider our options!"

Yeah right. Like my mother would let me leave that place.

I automatically looked to my phone to text Rebekah out of habit. I started to rant about my mother and the support group. But then I realized she was the reason I was in this whole situation. I blocked her number and my ex-boyfriend's number as well, with a smug look on my face.

Although I despised going, I went anyways.

This is going to be so. much. fun.