Drunken Love (ON HOLD)

Chapter 4 - You Okay?

I looked around the dining hall, as my mind drifted away. Everything felt so hazy, hazy and distant. I got some sleep last night, but barely any. I woke up before Hannah, and decided to clean up the bathroom. Water bottles had covered the floor, and water drenched the entire bathroom. Hannah woke up, asking if I had gotten any sleep. I said I was fine.

I can't even look at the food on my plate without feeling light headed. Just the thought of it makes me want to puke. I lent Hannah some of my Tylenol, so I'm already almost out of the bottle my mom had given me. 27 days left of all this.

Everyone around me looked so fresh, how is that even possible? Even Hannah looked better than I did, I just looked like a zombie. I moved the food around on my plate, and felt my eyes closing. Of course now I wanted to sleep.

I saw someone walking up to the table, who looked like hell. Is that Zayn? He had large circles under his eyes, and he was wearing sweatpants and a Pink Floyd T-shirt. His hair wasn't styled like it had been yesterday, it didn't even look like he had brushed it.

He threw his tray down on the table, and sat down with a large thud. He rested his elbow on the table so that he could lay his head on his hand. He looked up at me, taking in my awful appearance. Is that how I looked, did I look like Zayn?

"I take it your night was just as awful as mine?" He questioned. I nodded.

"I spent the whole night in the bathroom."

"Me too." I pushed my tray further away from me, so I wouldn't have to look at it. Zayn only had a water on his tray, which he took off so he could push his tray away. "How was your roommate?"

"Actually, not too bad. We talked a lot, and she opened up to me. She's a lot nicer to me. How about yours?"

"Mine," he laughed, "I go into the bathroom before him and before I know it he's pushing me out of the way so he can use the toilet. Full on push. Then he's yelling at me for invading his privacy earlier! I was like, you could get kicked out for PDA with that girl, and you're getting mad at me? I'm not at fault here."

"Mike, why?! You fucking keep coming back, yelling at me to stop?! What about you? You beat me up and hurt me because of what you do with other girls? I'm not at fault."

"Yes, you are! You've been getting wasted every night, where do you get all this liquor?"

"That's none of your concern."

"You're going crazy!"

"You are! You think it's my fault, but it's yours."

"You're a drunk!"

"Because of you!"

"Emma? You okay?" Zayn looked at me. I directed my attention back to the tired boy in front of me, who was waiting for me to respond to his story. I lifted my hands up, which were shaking.

"Yeah."

"No you're not, I can tell."

"I'm fine."

"Emma..."

"Zayn..."

"C'mon Emma, just tell me."

"Listen Zayn, I'm fine, I swear. Just thinking about alcohol that's all." Zayn knew I was lying, but he dropped the subject. At least he wasn't going too push me. I don't know why all these memories were coming back to me, but it was so painful.

My hands would shake and my whole mind would zone out and I could just picture it so vividly. All the bottles of alcohol and the people involved. The beatings and the bruises, they all were coming back. And it seemed to be going in order. Each event ran the way it had.