Georgia Rose (One Direction)

Chapter 34

"C'mon Georgia! You need to get out more, please come." Hannah spoke over the phone.

"For the last time, no! I don't want to go to a party, I don't want to get out more." My patience is wearing thin.

"Just this once, please. I'm worried about you and it wouldn't be fun without you there."

"Parties aren't my scene." I said.

"Just try it, when's the last time you've been to a party?"

"I don't kn-"

"It'll help you get over Harry..."

My heart winced when she said his name. It's now been three weeks and there still hasn't been a single phone call or text, I have given up hope. That still doesn't mean I don't think about him, I think about him even more if that's possible.

I dream about him, imagining him kissing me. I never stop thinking about him and the cuts on my body sit there as a reminder that he still has yet to come back for me. He hasn't rode back on his beautiful white horse to rescue me from my own reality. It's over. This game I've been playing is finally over but I didn't receive an award, all I got was a broken heart and messed up mind.

So maybe I could possibly forget him if I go to this party, maybe it would actually help me. I guess its worth a try though, it's not like I could possibly fall any deeper into the grave I'm digging for myself.

I sighed. "Fine, when is it?"

"I'll pick you up at 8," she said and we exchanged good byes before hanging up.

It's almost six now so I might as well start getting ready. I slowly and cautiously get out of my bed and make my way over to my closet, the dizziness is indicating that I should probably eat something before I leave.

Going through my closet, I realize I don't have a lot to wear. Well, I have tons to wear but nothing that fits what I'm looking for. I need something that is acceptable for a party but hides the ugly cuts upon my skin.

It shouldn't be this hard, it usually isn't. But since I lost Harry, the number of cuts have multiplied. Everyday I find it harder than the previous just to cover up each and every gash because they are taking up more and more of my skins surface.

It takes so much work just so nobody will see these mistakes that I cannot seem to correct. I have to make sure the sleeves of my shirt are long enough but I also have to make sure the bottom of it won't ride up. I have to find a shirt that isn't too tight just so they can breathe and not be rubbed against. I have to find the right fabric that won't catch onto the open cuts and infect them. It's such an effort that nobody wants to go through but it's something I could care less about because the feeling is too addicting to even think about stopping...

After destroying my closet, I finally decide on a simple black long sleeved dress that ends just under mid thigh. It's a beautiful dress stretched on to fit a not so beautiful girl.

I walked into my bathroom to do my hair and makeup but realized I couldn't because I still haven't replaced the mirror I punched a week ago. I haven't told my father about it either and I also haven't cleaned up the shards that remain scattered across the counter.

I just can't bring myself to touch them, or else I know ill do something I shouldn't. If I touch a sharp surface all I'll want to do is continuously prick my sensitive skin with it. I quickly grab my makeup bag and everything else I need before I do something I will regret.

I put on more makeup than I probably should have, I just feel like if I cover up then people won't see how much of a mess I am. So I put on numerous layers of coverup, eye shadow, eye liner and mascara until I finally felt that I was acceptable enough to be looked at.