"So what brings you here?" He watches every move I make, every mouthful of awful food I take. Its intriguing that he's fond of watching me yet very weird.
"My parents think im depressed" I sigh. "Well, I am but they don't have to know that." I smile.
"My mom knows I am, I couldn't bare to lie to her." He half smiles.
"How long have you been in here." I question, stirring the milk in my tea.
"Tomorrow it will be 7 months." He laughs. "Im slowly getting better, so its not a waste of time." He brings his hot drink to meet his lips. The door is opened and boots hit the floor, I look up to meet his gaze, his green eyes focused on me, hypnotizing, he's hypnotizing me. He has to be, I cant take my eyes off him.
"Nice hair" He smirks, im quick to bring my hands to my matted greyish hair, I cant even call It a proper hair colour, its dyed. I carry on watching him as he focuses on Zayn.
Their mouths are moving, but im in so much awe that I cant hear them. The way his mouth moves slow as he looks so deeply at Zayn, he's in awe over him, just like I am with him. He watches every detail of Zayn, each and every detail, the small arch in his eyebrow, the blemishes on his cheek, his nose scrunches as he smiles, im in complete awe of him, completely in awe of this stranger.
"I will see you tomorrow?" Zayn stands up, I watch as his friend walks over to the door, waiting impatiently.
"E-rm, yeah..maybe" I half smile. He swiftly brings me in for a hug, his friend clearly getting more impatient as he huffs.
"Zayn, there waiting." He groans, he pulls away and I take my seat back down, watching as his friend looks at me until Zayn gets too the door. Did he see me watching his every move while talking? I hope not, im defiantly not a weirdo.
My first day, well afternoon hasn't been to bad. Ive already made one friend, Zayn..although he's friend is rather mysterious which makes me want to know more. He dressed in black, everything he wore was black, even his socks. His hair was dark, curly and a total mess. He looked tall, slightly taller than Zayn, skinny, not overly skinny but defiantly skinner than me. bastard, I bet he's one of those people who at everything and anything and still keep the same size. He revealed his dimples, his smile was rather cute and those green eyes took me to a whole new place, almost breath taking.
Its 5am on a Wednesday, I repeat 5 o'clock in the morning. Ive never been a heavier sleeper, Im normally up at 6.30am most mornings. Drawing, that's what I do with my time, I draw. That's what I should do, I should at least make the place look half decent, I should go out and buy some better paint, paint the door and the walls. That's what I could do today, I have to keep myself busy.
I grab my hoodie slinging it over my head, rolling the sleeves up and placing a pillow under my bum. I should draw him, Zayn's friend..he's all ive thought about since last night, I even dreamt we had a 5 minute conversation. Im still yet to find out his name, I wonder if Zayn has said anything to him about me, well he doesn't know much, apart from my name..
I wonder what ill be doing today, I wonder if ill see Zayn or his friend. I want to, I want to get to know them both, id like to make some friends. This is what Im talking about, I talk crap all the time, i think of too many things at one time and my brain goes into overload.
I grab the pencils off the side, doodling on the wall I find myself drifting off into my never ending, over thinking mind. Yes, about him. Ill start on his hair, his mass of never ending curls, brushed back off his forehead using what looked like a scarf, a green scarf. He had rather plump lips that I could see myself kissing, more than once. Or messing with his hair, and plaiting it. Its defiantly long enough to plait. Right, his hair is done..its not the best mess of hair, but its a mess. His face, his dimples, his green eyes, his perfect teeth.
Why am I drawing him? He's defiantly going to think im a class A stalker, I quickly scribble his hair out, bringing a marker pen and doodling my name over the scribble.
I stand up, opening the window and jumping back onto my bed. The skies look clear, the sun's coming up and the air is cold. I pull up my overly white cover's, bringing the journal my mother left out of the draw and onto the bed. Her exact words were 'I want you to keep this journal, of your journey. I think in years time, you'll hit another hard time in your life and looking back at this journal will help you move forward.' I partly think she's right, the other part of me thinks its utter bullshit, it will only bring back bad memories and cause even more depression.
I open up the journal, too lay my eyes on a family picture. This was taken when I was 11, this was a year before I got depressed. My body is curvy, my hair is long and the curls are something I miss, my smile isn't fake, my family and I look happy. Too happy that it scares me, im scared ill never feel as happy as I did when this photo was taken. I bring the pen out of the book, and label the page.
August 11th, 2012..Day 1.
Boys, ive met a boy. His name is Zayn and he has a friend, who just happens to be the hottest guy ive ever seen. There's a list of things im in awe of about him, a list that would take a page of this shit book. I don't know whether im meant to write how I feel, or if my mother just wants to know that her money is being put to good use. Its too early to tell, but yes mom..i don't think your money will be put too good use. Or does she think, or even know that I wont last in this place, as the year passes, ill grow less bothered about life, ill get more and more depressed, ill even hit rock bottom. Does she think that by this time next year, ill be dead. Shes missing part of whats meant to be the greatest years of my entire life, and here I am telling you guys the story of the end of my teenage years. That's what she thinks, this is why she put me in here isn't it? So someone else could have on their conscious that im dead. How am I meant to get better if the wrong people are around me, giving m the same support they give everyone else, their all used to this..you know the workers, day in and day out they get the same shit depressed teenagers, im one of those people.
The knock at the door, makes me jump. I quickly close the book, shoving it under my pillow. A small head peeps round the door, Lauren.
"Im glad you're up..breakfast is soon." She smiles, walking in without any hesitation. I thought I was allowed privacy? I don't call this privacy, id of been more pissed if she didn't knock. "The bathrooms, are down the hall, through the doors and its the first door on the left." She smiles again, she needs to stop smiling, I might even crack a smile.
That's why she smiles so god damn much, of course I need positive people around me, otherwise we'd all be depressed for the rest of our lives. I should stop jumping to conclusions and just respect certain choices my parents have chosen.
"Thanks" I mumble, smiling back at her.
hii, thank you for the few comments/votes I got! everyone comment/vote helps guys! So here is chapter two, hope you enjoy x Don't forget to comment and vote! x
