Broken (Timids)

Killer?

Trigger warning; mentions of self harm, depression, violence, blood so if you don't like that sort of stuff I would advise you not to read this chapter.

Drew's PoV
  I woke up quickly and groaned as the light flitting through the hotel window blinded me awake, and pulled me back into the harsh real world that I had been trying desperately to escape, even though, in the back of my mind, I knew that I deserved every minute of this hell I had put myself through over these last few days, since me and Shane fell out and he left me, for good. After all, I had badly hurt them, all of them, and now they were never going to speak to me or allow me into their lives again. Not that I could blame them for that, after all I had done to ruin the very foundations of their once perfect lives

In my weak defence, just like usual, I had never realised the extent of damage that stupid my actions could do and I had never meant to hurt them in the awful way that I had done just days ago, Shane in particular. I could live with awful myself, just about, knowing that I had hurt the others, as I knew that they could handle the pain that came with my heartbreaking betrayal,  yet knowing that I'd hurt Shane killed me inside, and with every day that pssssed, I became a self hating shadow of my former self.

Without Shane's love and kind words to pull me through, I wallowed in a vat of self pity and slowly, I wasted away to nothingness. I spent my days crying and desperately glancing out of my grotty hotel window, hoping that I would see Shane walking up the drive ti bring me back home, whilst I spent my long, lonely nights in the hotel bar, drowning my many sorrows in cheap vodka, hoping that it would drive my painful memories away and give my mind a few hours a peace.

My arms were utterly ruined by now and every time that I looked upon them, another hatred filled me and caused angry tears to leak uncontrollably from my eyes at the knowledge that I had broken one of my biggest promises to him, even though he didn't care whether I kept it or not anymore. However, to me, it felt like I was letting him down yet again and every time I did catch sight of my arm, usually when my sleeve idly rolled up to reveal my scars, I imagined shane's sad face,just inches away from my own, exactly the way it had been on the first night that he ever saw me cutting in the bathroom and his eyes had filled with tears because I found a sadistic joy in hurting myself. It was during those awful moments that Shane's soothing voice sounded clearest in my aching head, though even when I was drunk, he never disappeared from my mind completely, merely blurred slightly under the alcohols strain. It was like some sort of mean trick that my mind played on me to make me suffer more than I ever had before; when I was drunk, I could forget everything else sad about my life, just not Shane.  I'd much rather have remembered all the other stress and hurt I had endured than Shanes sad face, and the fact that I had been the one to hurt him so heartlessly.

It had been three days since I had left my home at the dingy flat and already, I was missing it with a passion. That place had been one of the only places I had ever felt safe and loved, even when I hadn't been in the arms of my loving timid as back then, at least I knew he was near and that he loved me. I was also constantly surrounded by the laughter and smiles of ,y friends, who also seemed to care about me and tried to cheer me up whenever I was feeling down. Back then, I had been appalled at their efforts, hating the fact that they took so much time out of their day to waste on silly old me yet now, I would give anything to have that comfort back. Here, I had no one, except for my sound destroying thoughts.

If I'd thought that my depression had been bad before Shane had first discovered it, I would be horribly surprised now, as I feel ten times worse than I had ever felt back at the flat. At least there, I had something to do and lovely people to distract me from wasting the day cutting into my skin. At least there, I had a reason to smile, instead of just moping under the covers, sobbing loudly to myself. At least there, I had caring friends who would allow me to drink away my sorrows, like I had been doing every night since I arrived in the hotel.