The Girl in the Mirror (Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Sienna's POV

God I feel like shit! Complete and utter shit! I can't drag myself out from beneath this dark black rain cloud, but it's not like I'm even trying. I'm allowing myself to drown in my own misery. I deserve it, I deserve to be unhappy.

I mean that's what happens to bad people, isn't it? Bad things. I'm bad, so it's inevitable that bad things happen to me.

You deserve this, you're a selfish bitch!

I'm hitting rock bottom and the thought of getting onto another plane and travelling to another city makes me feel worse. The tears I'm fighting keep building back up, forcing me to swallow them down again. Don't cry! Don't you dare fucking cry! I've brought this on myself, like I always do.

I'm exhausted, physically and mentally. I've done that to myself though. I create these bad situations and I wait for someone to bail me out. Nobody's there though, nobody will bail me out this time. I could ask Harry, maybe even Zayn for help, but I doubt they'd want to be around for me. I'm too late to make amends, nor would I. I wouldn't lower myself to beg for anyone's help, not even Harry's.

The only person who can even stand being around me right now is Trevor. He's obliged to be here though. It's his job after all. I'd confide in him, but I don't want to tell anyone what I've been doing. He'd judge me, think less of me then he already does if he knew about me and Zayn. I've got to deal with this myself.

I know what I need, I need a buzz; I need something to lift me up. The cocaine in my handbag is to tempting to ignore, so I quickly take it into my bathroom, which is attached to my dressing room. I make up a line of cocaine, snorting it up my nose, but the usual buzz doesn't come. I feel no change, no tingle, nothing. It's like my body is immune to the drug, which has ruled and ignited my living.

My hands reach to my hair, tugging on it intensely. I can't lose it! I can't lose this feeling! FUCK! I need it!

I make up more lines of cocaine, snorting them up my nose in desperation. My nose burns, like a flame is raging through it, which makes my eyes water. I begrudgingly look in the mirror and I don't see her anymore. I don't see Sienna. She's gone, I'm gone and I'm not coming back.

I'm a mess, everyone will be able to see it. I need help, I need someone to rescue me. I need someone to save me from this destruction. I need someone to stick around and not leave me. I need someone to want to help me, so I don't have to ask for it. I'd rather die then ask for it.

I leave the bathroom in a drug fuelled blur, finding my hairdresser, Rachel waiting for me. She's setting up her hairdressing tools, things she'll use to make me appear human. I'm not human though, I've got the devil running through my veins and no amount of hairspray can disguise that. She won't look at me; my existence disgusts her too. She knows what I've bene doing, but years of anger fuelled words means she won't confront me. She'd rather allow me to destroy myself then get the lashing of my tongue. I wish she would though, I wish she cared enough to challenge me. She doesn't though, nobody does.

I walk around aimlessly, no concern for the time ticking by and the mania around me. Everyone is rushing around, trying to make me listen, but I won't. I'm not cooperating, refusing to listen to anyone. They're trying to get the show on the road, but I'm not complying.

The more people go on at me the more the ticking time bomb inside me ticks away. I'm getting ready to explode and nobody likes it when that happens.

My stylist is in front of me, almost begging me to put on my stage costumes, but I won't. I'm too angry, too worked up to do as I'm told. The relaxed and calm cocaine frenzy I'm usually on is nowhere to be seen. I'm looking for a fight and everyone around me is provoking me into one.