too young for this { harry styles }

Chapter 36.

~

It seems that when you're sleeping you're not completely there, and I so hope that's true because those nightmares were terrifying as I slept in that hotel room Harry had gotten us.

He was in the other bed. The whole room was quite similar to that of Demi and I's, but now no hallway.

I didn't know the girls name who was in the nightmare, but I knew the girl.

She was screaming, shouting. Her dark hair was in long tangles sticking out in every direction as she screamed at me. My dreams are kind of like movies where you see both people from an outsiders view, and that was scary.

I was making hand motions. The kinds of gestures I haven't used in almost or years now. I was screaming too.

It was only when she fell on the ground did I know that someone had pulled a trigger to a gun. That she was dead.

It wasn't the trigger, it was the person behind that trigger who killed her, and that person was Harry and that dead girl was the girl I had only met eyes with for a split second just yesterday.

Yesterday.

My face was burrowed into the pillow at 2:30 AM when I woke up from my thoughts being louder than normal. I was still trying to recover from my dream when I saw Harry laying down in a peaceful sleep.

I could hear it again.

I could hear that small urge in my head, begging for pain and when I don't hurt, it begs for more. It's this constant distortion of thoughts and I'm drowning deeper into mine. It's like I was suddenly on a boat in peaceful bliss of new beginnings, and now I'm low. Lower than the Marianna Trench.

I couldn't stop thinking. I couldn't stop breathing heavily as the thoughts started to become more severe of my existence. It scared me.

In times like this, after the therapy and my diagnosis, I'd take medicine to seize the sanity, but there's no medicine in Greece.

I hadn't even moved during my realizations that I was stuck this way. I can't change unless I get medicine and I'm not getting medicine.

My faint memory of things from yesterday started to come back as the black cloud in my thoughts was empathetic and went quiet for awhile.

I can't do this. Not now. I can't break down.

The only numbing of the loud thoughts I had was pulling at my tangled locks of hair in aggravation. That's it, that's all I'll allow for myself. I can't ruin it.

The thoughts grow louder as my breath hitches.

You're not going to beat me this time.

"No." I mouth, trying to fight what was coming.

That one word gave me a glimpse of all the reasons I had to do it.

Justin and I before the attempt and the break up of Harry and I. How badly I affected Harry. How badly I affected Niall, and everyone else.

How badly I affected myself, even.

Thoughts started to crash into each other as I found that scratching the skin on my calves was the only sensation that made them not collide as much.

"You need to go," I whispered to my head.

My brain didn't respond. It knew what it wanted.

Somehow I managed to find my grim faced figure to stand up by the side of my bed.

"Walk." I ordered myself.

It did little to my constant desire for pain as I forced myself to walk on the cold tile into the bathroom.