Clean » 1D Fanfic

Liam

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It's movie night tonight, so we're all sitting or laying in the home theater room in various places. Rumor has it that they used to allow blankets until some girl got caught giving some guy a hand job underneath. There are now strict rules that everyone must be at least two feet, or more, from each person next to them.

Niall's a few bodies from me with his perfect posture, like he's never sat on a floor before. Poor boy. He's probably freaking out about being surrounded by so many germs or about being around tons of "unhealthy" people. Or, even better, I bet he almost wet his pants in excitement when he found out that they do actually give us homework in here. Instead of us doing math, history, or science, though, we get these really long writing assignments. We're supposed to open up and basically prove how fucked up we are and that pretty much everything we do is wrong and/or stupid.

I don't get it. I would consider myself a pretty smart person. I mean, I got mostly A's and B'a this year, granted that I was wasted most of the time. But I just don't understand the forced introspection. It's like they think that constantly talking about depressing shit will somehow make us less depressed? Either that, or they're all creepy as fuck and get off to listening to our depressing and fucked up lives. That must be it–they get paid all this fucking money to make us "sane" and "get better" when they're the true psychos.

In all honesty, I'm sure I can make a list at least a mile long of all the stupid things I've done while I've been high or drunk. All the ways I've hurt people or been hurt. Just thinking about it makes me want to get high or drunk again just to forget about the details.

How is that supposed to help me? How is feeling like a failure supposed to help me? The way I see it, with all these crazy new meds that doctors have been creating, they should make one that makes you forget whatever you want. If we had something like that, none of us would need any if the drugs or alcohol that for us in here.

But, instead, they're making us all sit on the floor and watch some movie where Sandra Bullock goes to rehab. All of the movies they show us have something to do addiction and the ending is always the same–the hero either chooses recovery or dies. My first night here, they showed us some 80's film about a high school jock that was on steroids. Really? Did they run out of real drugs to show? Mostly everyone fell asleep during the beginning of the movie. I just sat there in the dark, hungover and shaking. I was strung over the line I snorted before my parents drove me over here, paranoid, miserable, and wanting to die, convinced that these people here have no idea on what they're doing and there's no way in hell that they can help me.

Surprisingly, this Sandra Bullock movie isn't too bad. Well, for one, it's a real movie with real actors. Not some bullshit that they used to show us on Lifetime. Not that I'm a fan of Sandra Bullock or anything, she's a good actress and all, but I do like how her character doesn't take any shit from anybody. It's definitely not Oscar worthy, but it sure is entertaining enough to keep me distracted from where I am for a couple of hours.

There comes a part when Sandra Bullock crashes her car when she's drunk and I hear someone say, "Hey, Liam, isn't that you?" And everyone laughs.

"Ha ha. Very funny," I say like I don't care, but I do. It really hurt my feelings.

And then when the gay German in the film comes on, Jeremy says, "Oh, look, it's Louis." No one knows if Louis is actually gay, and we all know he's definitely not German, but everyone laughs again and Louis says absolutely nothing. I can see him over the sea of bodies in the far corner looking straight at the tv, not moving, probably not even breathing, trying to pretend as if he didn't hear anything. I want to go over there and slap him. I want to yell at him and tell him to stick up for himself for fuck's sake. But, knowing him, he's probably say something Christian like, "Oh, they're just playing around. They don't mean it. It doesn't bother me," when I know that inside, he's hurting.

"Shut the fuck up, you fucking asshole." Zayn says. As annoying as he can be, he's pretty fearless when it comes to speaking his mind, even if he can be rude at times.

Tonight's AC gives Zayn stern look and says, "Zayn, that's enough."

"Why didn't you say that to the damn homophobe?"

So the AC turns to Jeremy and says, "You too. There me no hateful language in here." And that's that.

Everyone goes back to watching the film. I look over and see as Zayn and Louis make eye contact. There's this weird look of surprise in Louis' eyes as him and Zayn share a quick nod then quickly go back to watching Sandra Bullock as if nothing happened.

Through the rest of the movie, I keep thinking back to the lady who took my evaluation test, when she looked me in the eye with so much sympathy and asked, "Honey, don't you want a break?" And all of the sudden, I felt my throat close up and my eyes start stinging with tears and I felt like crying. I had no idea where it came from. I haven't cried in what felt like forever. It was the strangest feeling, like it hurt and felt good at the same time.

I don't know what any of this means. All I know is that I feel crazy, like I want to cry and laugh and scream at the same time. I wonder if anybody else here feels this way, if anyone is as scared as I am. Are they as angry and sad and confused and ashamed? Is that even possible? Is it even possible for one building to hold so much pain?