Things Happen | ✓

Chapter Thirty-Two: Feels Like Loneliness

When I woke up on Sunday, I found myself lying in an extremely uncomfortable position on the carpet of an unfamiliar room. My head was pounding, the effects of my nightmare still hazing my mind.

It had felt so real. And it killed me.

It had been years since I had a nightmare like that. The kind of nightmares that I had after the accident. When I had been taking the sleeping pills, every night I would have a terrible dream that felt like reality. They were usually about the accident too.

I had forgotten the effects of the nightmares after three years, but this dream gave me a rude awakening. I didn't feel relieved when I woke up. I felt completely drained of energy. But with this exhaustion, came the fear of falling asleep. And fear could be a dangerous thing. Fear of going to sleep was the very thing that had brought me to the sleeping pills three years ago. And I knew I couldn't go back. They would make things worse.

In fact, my night terrors were what made me plummet into depression. That terrible period of my life where I didn't eat and couldn't feel any emotion but sadness. That time when I lost the will to live along with my parents. Every day in my depression, felt like another heavy stone added to a mountain.

My depression wasn't something I thought about a lot. Mostly because I didn't like to think about how sad I was after the accident. I had actually forgot about it ever since I moved to Curmouth. I wasn't depressed when I was coming to Curmouth, but I was about a year before I moved.

The pills made my dreams worse. The dreams made my mood drop, sending me into depression. That was how they worked, like some sort of dream-team duo.

I had a diagnosis for depression too, even though my case wasn't as severe as most. I really didn't want to go back into that state of never eating and losing interest in things I once loved. The state where I would either cry from grief all day long, or feel nothing at all. I didn't want to be numb again. I wanted to be happy.

I was happy in Curmouth. I am happy in Curmouth. Right?

With this whole Will thing, I can't even think straight.

As I tried to ignore the sore pain in my back, I thought about yesterday. It had been wonderful at first. Jack had kissed me in the meadow. But then Tabitha was hospitalized, and everything went downhill from there. I didn't even want to think about Will. If he cared at all, he would apologize, but I'm not sure that he's in the apologetic mood. I am certainly not.

I pushed myself off the floor, and straightened my back. The absence of a clock rendered me ignorant of the time, and for all I knew, it could be two in the morning or two in the afternoon.

I decided to go back to my room to shower and change. I wasn't in the best shape. The designer jeans Hannah dressed me in had been digging into my skin all night, and I wanted to free myself from the fabric as soon as humanly possible. Judging by the raw stinging of my face, I must have cried pretty bad, which meant my skin was probably blotchy.

I left the dark room, and entered the hallways of the mansion, which were well-lit. It must be some time in the day.

Once I made it to my room, I stripped out of my clothes, and waddled into the bathroom to get in the shower. As I walked past the mirror, I stopped, stunned at my appearance.

My face was red and blotchy. Dried mascara tear trails remained from when Hannah had done my makeup before my date. I looked like a mess, and my hair was frizzy from the carpet.

I turned away from the mirror, not wanting to see myself. Honestly, it was a little frightening that Will had this effect on me. He couldn't ruin me. I wouldn't let him ruin me. I couldn't be depressed from one argument. I was stronger than that. Will would come back. He would apologize. It would get better. I just can't let it affect me.