alaska • harry styles

Chapter 18

I literally have no idea why I agreed on coming here in first place. I mean I tried to convince my mother that this wouldn't be a good idea, but why didn't I just run away when she told me I had to go? Things would be so much easier. Maybe, just maybe, things would actually be alright, just like they once were. I couldn't really remember what it was like when they were alright though. It felt like an eternity when in reality it had only been several months which I spent suffering and losing myself. I couldn't remember who I was before things dramatically changed and it scared me to death. Oh god, I wished things were different.

I wished I didn't have to stay up all night because my mind wouldn't stop racing. I wished I wasn't so lonely and sad. I wished my dad had never even left me.

But all in all, I couldn't change things. I didn't have the energy for trying because recovery meant relapse and I knew that if I broke again, I couldn't keep myself from falling apart anymore. I was no longer trying to fix the broken pieces and for the moment I believed that only holding them was enough. Maybe I'll be better one day. Maybe I can save myself one day. Maybe, just maybe, things will be alright again, but right now I felt like it's never going to be okay. I felt anxious and scared, overwhelmed and disillusioned, but most of all I felt fear which is the most powerful emotion to me. Fear will always be there. It will be there in your darkest hours and it will be there in your best moments. It kills you, but it kills you slowly. It's not like a gunshot or a bomb, it's like drowning and that's painfully slow. I was slowly killing myself by letting simple thoughts cloud my mind to remind me of things I never wanted to remember. I wished I could turn back time to erase all my sins and make things right. I wished I could be the girl I once was, but she was gone. I missed her. Remembering all these things hurt so much, I noticed feeling more and more suicidal by every second.

I sighed in exhaustion and buried my face in my hands. This was horrible. How could things turn into this? I felt so drained and irritated again.

I turned the music up, hoping it could somehow shush my violent thoughts. I knew I had to distract myself from thinking or I would eventually have another panic attack so I started humming along to the song that blasted through my earphones.

I lifted my jumper and looked at all the bruises that marked my arms. The irritated skin had turned into all different shades of purple like the aesthetic lilac skies at the end of every day. I caught myself smiling for a second before I checked the time, realising that I should leave now. I had decided to skip the pathetic daily meeting earlier but now we had to leave the hotel again, so I should probably show up before they notice my absence and call the cops.

I quickly got ready and went downstairs, the music still blasting through my headphones.

I don't think I could survive a single day without music. I would probably go crazy. It's the only way I know for expressing myself without using violence and the only thing that can actually calm me. I know that it would be better if I took my pills, but I had stopped taking them long ago. They had made me feel better and sometimes I didn't know if I even wanted to get better.

All in all, I was just a really sad and confused mess.

While I walked to the busses in front of the hotel, I tried to focus on the lyrics because my current situation was making me anxious. Bring Me The Horizon's music was pulsing through my veins as I plopped down on the first empty seat that caught my eye.

I wasn't going to talk to anyone anyways, so I didn't care who was sitting next to me. I once cared too much but I stopped when I realised that nobody cared about me. I missed those times, I really did. And once again, I wished that I could somehow travel back in time.

I spent the time wondering again, wishing for things that were impossible to happen.

Eventually we arrived in the middle of nowhere and left the warmth of the bus, getting back together with our partners.