Make Me Forget✔

F O U R

Song Of The Chapter: I'll show you- Justin Bieber.

[Next Morning]

Conor's POV_

"COME ON CONOR WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!" The calmness of a hot shower first thing in the morning didn't exactly help me escape my psychopathic younger brother and his loud screams all over the empty house.

I don't think there was even a point in him moving out since he's literally a representation of an alarm to my tired body that's just trying to heal from all the intoxications blocking my consciousness at a time like this.

I could barely even stand up, my back to the shower, my sighs turning into loud annoyed groans as I heard his voice coming closer to my room.

"I'M TAKING A SHOWER, PISS OFF!" Was literally all I said before I heard the loudest knocks on my bathroom door.

"YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES, PRINCESS." He informed me, finally leaving me alone, the way he closed the door behind him indicating the impatience he held.

Is it bad? That I wonder how my life would've been if I was a normal geography teacher? In a normal school, and with a normal life?

Is it bad? That sometimes I wish I didn't take the turns I took? That I didn't get to where I am right now?

Is it wrong that I just want all of this to end?

The pain inside of me to stop knocking my lungs out of breath everytime I'm sober enough to think?

I honestly don't even remember how it feels like not  to overthink the smallest of things.

It's like I'm being watched through every breath I take.

It's like I'm not me anymore.

It's like I'm just an image of what others want me to be.

I've went down the wrong way, and the only reason I drink my thoughts away is because there's no turning back.

I can't do anything now. I'm tied up in place, and I don't think I'm ever going to free myself.

And you know why?

I simply don't want to.

I'm exhausted, and I'm just so sick of trying.

Whatever I do, it's just never enough, and that's far more painful than anything I've went through.

I turned the shower off, eventually deciding to step out, and for once... I didn't sing.

I wasn't singing.

Which is pretty odd.

I think the only reason I got kicked out of my previous apartment was the fact that I sang high school musical theme songs too loudly early in the morning.

But I don't feel like it anymore.

I think that every sound I make is going to drench the power out my body, and I can barely even think straight, so I kinda need all the power I can save for my survival.

No, I'm not trying to live anymore, I only want to survive.

As I covered my body with the white robe that I loved so much, I reached out for the towel on my left to dry my hair, and brush my teeth because of the fatal stench of alcohol leaving my mouth everytime I opened it.

I don't think my breath is the only thing that smells like alcohol, I think I have it running through my vains at this point of my life.

I looked up at myself in the mirror, wondering who the hell am I seeing.