Tomorrow Never Dies

Chapter 59 - "always here when you want to sing Les Mis"

"Miss Lighthawk, this may be difficult for you to hear, but we're going to recommend you check into a rehabilitation facility that will keep you safe and allow you to get your head around the beginning of your recovery." My face dropped and I shook my head violently.

"No," I said. "Absolutely not."

"If you choose to go, you'll be on an exercise regime and a healthy diet, there'll be no way of self harming or attempting suicide, and your medications will be strictly controlled."

"I'm not going," I insisted. "No way." My head was spinning, but one of the thoughts floating round reminded me that I hurt myself to cope with the suicidal thoughts. I couldn't be put in an environment where my coping mechanism would be taken away.

"Miss Lighthawk, it's a choice. But it's a choice I think you and Mr Clifford should consider properly, as it's an effective option in combating your mental disorders." She left the room.

"Mikey I don't want to go," I sobbed. "I can't go."

"I know baby but we need to think about it. It could help you get better!"

"I don't want to get better any more, I just want for it all to be over."

"I know," he sighed, and he pulled my head into his chest as I cried.

"I want it to stop." He ran his fingers through my hair, rubbing my ear softly as his hand passed it. The counsellor entered again and sat opposite us.

"Have you come to a decision?"

"I'm not going." I grabbed my bag and stormed out, Michael running straight after me, throwing an apology in the counsellor's direction.

"Flora wait!" I ran through town, barely noticing as the sun set, until I was sure I'd lost him. There was a neighbourhood in the middle of the city where the roads twisted and turned so quickly that he had no way of telling where I'd gone, and once I found my way out of the maze of narrow streets I sat down on the banks above the river. I looked down into the swirling currents of the water and let my foot hang lazily in the shallows. As I sat in silence, droplets of rain began to fall on my head, lightly at first, then gradually heavier. As the density of the rain increased, I began to cry again. I sang softly to myself as I wept.

"Don't you fret, monsieur Marius, I don't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now." I continued with one of my favourite songs from my favourite musical, imagining I was Eponine in the barricades of Paris, with Marius cradling me as I died. "You will keep me safe, and you will keep me close, and rain will make the flowers grow." Tears rolled down my cheeks, intermingling with the raindrops, and I watched the splashes of falling water splatter over the surface of the river. I felt content in the water, not caring that I was soaking wet, and I stopped crying.

"Flora?" I looked up, and saw a boy approaching me. As he came closer, I made him out to be Jensen, the boy from my journalism class.

"Hey," I said, wiping the tears that remained under my eyes with the cuff of my hoodie. "Didn't expect to see you out here."

"I could say the same about you, don't you live on the other side of town?"

"How do you know where I live?" Alarm bells were ringing in my mind, all screaming STALKER!!!

"You're basically a celebrity, a report came out a few weeks ago that you bought a new house in that area of Sydney." He gave me a pointed look.

"Reports are never right, I'm renting an apartment." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"When it's raining I like to come and take pictures. It's therapeutic when I'm writing essays for Professor Bates."

"True," I smiled as he came and sat next to me. "I've got to do that article he set us this morning still."

"It's not that bad, he's given us worse topics before. What are you doing here?"

"Long day." He stayed silent for a minute, as if wishing me to elaborate, then when he realised I wasn't going to, he pulled his backpack off his shoulder and rummaged inside, producing a cigarette. He lit it, and I glared at him. I wasn't a fan of smoking, but I also couldn't be bothered arguing with him over it. For all I knew, it could have been his coping technique.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked, blowing out a puff of smoke like a dragon with a nicotine addiction.

"God knows, I lost him." He made eye contact, smiled awkwardly, then looked away. He took another drag from his cigarette, then offered it to me. I hesitated for a moment, just a split second, then took it from him. I tried to take a deep breath, but starting spluttering and coughing, shoving the cigarette back in his direction as he laughed at me.

"You've not done this before, have you?" I shook my head, still coughing my lungs out.

"Never doing it again."

"It takes a bit of getting used to," he acknowledged. He opened his arms to me, and I leant into his embrace, resting my head on his shoulder as I pulled my hood up. He did the same. I folded my arms, and he copied. I rolled my eyes, certain he wouldn't be able to see me, and he let out an offended scoff.

"You're annoying."

"Says you."

"I want you to be my new male best friend."

"Gladly. I will always be here for you when you need to sing Les Mis in the rain."

"You heard that?" I covered my eyes.

"I've heard better singing, not going to lie."

"Thanks," I smiled sarcastically. "Michael and I were clearly meant for each other."

"Obviously," he chuckled. "Anyway, it's late. Do you want me to call you a cab to take you home?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'll walk."

"Can I walk you?" I shook my head. "Make sure you go where it's well lit and text me as soon as you arrive, okay?"

"Of course. You too." We stood up, hugged, and went our separate ways. I made my way through the city, sticking to well lit roads as he'd instructed, crossing the street as I tried to avoid walking past pubs and bars full of drunk old men. I got home, locked the door behind me, and pulled out my phone.

home safe. you?

Jensen: same. see you tomorrow 'Ponine

I smiled, pulled off my wet clothes, and was about to fall asleep when I realised Michael wasn't there. I got my phone out again and texted him.

I'm home, I'm sorry to worry you. Just got very scared, I love you x

I knew that he wouldn't still be out looking for me, as I'd run away before, and always come home before the end of the day. He was likely with Ashton, talking about what had happened and getting advice on how to handle me given my mental state. As my eyes were shutting, the door opened, and he walked in. He looked at me, sighed, and got into bed next to me, kicking off his shoes, and pulling me close to his heart.

*****
so
13 reasons why. it is a beautiful show, with an incredibly important message, ill be the first to admit that. however, it is also incredibly triggering if you suffer from mental illnesses like me. @projectbuddy on twitter has created a list on trigger warnings however everybody's triggers are different, and today i was particularly badly affected by a scene in episode 4. enjoy, but be very careful.

in other news im dying my hair and i applied for a job today

song of the chapter: around the world and back by state champs