Yes. 2 - growing up.

Chapter 16.

Trevor's P.O.V

I caused this. I am to blame for all the pain she's feeling. I hurt her, I was the reason she passed out. I was the reason she left California three years ago. I'm the reason why she's like this. Crying and sobbing into Jc's chest. I'm the reason for it all.

I jump at her scream.

Her heart shattering scream. So high pitched and so loud I'm sure everyone in this god forsaken hospital can hear. The scream in pain. In agony. In complete sorrow and grief. I'm a horrible person. I wish there was something to fix her beautiful heart. Pick up the broken pieces of the girl I fell in love with.

She screams again and you can hear the agonizing pain she's feeling. The horrible feelings she's held all through the years of her life. If I didn't know the little bits of her life that I do, I would think she was crazy. But at this point, I want to be crazy too. I want to scream at the top of my lungs with her.

Just to let her know that I feel her pain. To let her know how sorry I really am. To let her know how much I truly love her even if at first, the love was artificial and fake, the love for her now is real and I always feel my heart crack after every day I spend without her.

"Dylan." Jc says after a while. I see her hands clench together then releasing.

"It hurts!" She yells. I feel myself wanting to just erase all her pain away but sadly, I can't.

"I know." He shushes her again. "I know it hurts, I know." Her hands clutch again but this time, her knuckles turn white and she doesn't release them.

"No you don't!" She yells. "You don't know what it's like to never have your life under your own control, but under the control of others! You don't know how fucked up my god damn life is and how I always mess shit up and have others fix it for me instead." And that's when my heart shatters.

I feel a tear roll down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away before anyone can see. Not that they would care. They're too occupied because of Dylan.

We all stay quiet. All that is audible in the room is her sobs. Her screams. And her moans in pain. I wish I could scream myself but I the last thing I want is to interfere and gain attention on myself.

Right now, all that matters is Dylan. All that matters is that she's still here today. That she didn't do anything stupid under my account. I know she's tried before and the last thing I want her to do is try again. I don't want her beautiful heart to stop. Ever.

If anyone's heart deserves to stop, it's mine. She did nothing and doesn't deserve the bad things that's happening to her. While me, I've done horrbile things in my life. I've hurt her; the love of my life. I've hurt my friends. My mother. My fans. Myself. I've hurt everything I've touched.

In the words of Connor: stomach in my throat, heart on my sleeve. That's me. That's my life. I always get hurt when I hurt others. I hurt myself when it comes to love because I don't want the one that got away to slip away. But I did. And she's sitting on a hospital bed. Being held in the arms of my bestfriend. Crying and screaming at the top of her lungs because I caused this and I have no words. My stomach is in my throat. I can't say anything right. Especially now.

Lord knows that I've tried to fix my sins. I've tried to fix what I've done wrong but now, I see that the one thing I wish to fix the most is broken and can never be fixed by me. But by someone else. By another man, maybe. By someone she loves. And that isn't me. She will never love me. She will always have no respect for me after all I've done to her.

The heart monitor fills my ears and I don't think I've heard such a more beautiful sound. The sound that lets me know that she's still alive. That she's still breathing. But I want the real thing. I want to lay my head over her chest. My ear just above her heart, listening to it beating. That's all I want.

But this is the closest I'll ever get. This is the closest I'll ever get to see her show emotion through her usual emotionless face. The last time I'll hear her say something that shows her pain in her usual monotone voice. This is the only emotion I'll ever see her show: pain. Fucking pain. How pathetic is that?

I think the worst part of this is: I had caused all this pain to her. All I've made her feel is pain and it kills me knowing that.

She screams.

Her ear piercing scream that I embrace. I let it stab my chest because I know it's for me to feel. It's for me to know that her pain is caused by me. I embrace it because this is the emotion she feels when she thinks of me: pain.

"What the hell is going on in here?" I hear Ricky yell and we all turn our heads towards him. He put down the cup of water on Dylans table and starts to rub his hand up and down her back.

She looks at him then turns her head back to Jc's chest. Nuzzling into it. Trying to dissappear.

She screams again.

Another tear runs down my cheek and I don't wipe it this time. This time, I let it fall. I let it trace down my cheek, down my jaw and finally falling. There's one thing I want to do right now. So I do it. I run.

I run out of her room and down the hall. A doctor walks in my way and try my best to menouver around him but I still trip. My fingers touch the ground and I push myself up so I don't fall to the floor completely. I turn the corner and finally see the double doors. I swing them open and now I'm finally in the street.

I look back up at the building I was just in and do the second thing I want to do: scream. So I do. It's not as high pitched as Dylans but it still grabs the attention of some nurses inside and a couple people in the parking lot.

"I'm sorry Dylan." I close my eyes. I clutch my chest at the pain I'm feeling. I made her feel like this and now I'm trying to return the favor. So I drop to my knees and touch my forehead to the sidewalk. "I'm sorry Dylan." I whisper again before screaming at my own agony.

Lord knows I've tried too hard. He knows I've been trying to fix something unfixable all these years and I know he's playing a game with me. She's in the building in front of me. She's in that room with other men who make her happy. But me? All I've caused her is pain.

Connor, Ricky, and most of all, Jc. They make her happy. They make her smile her brightest, widest smile. I remember when I was the one who did that... three years ago. But even then, I was under a pact. A pact that ruined her. Crushed her. Shattered her heart. God, how could I have been so childish? How could I, someone who makes millions of people on the internet smile, have hurt that poor girl? That poor, beautiful girl.

I replay that day in my head. Over and over. Torturing myself with the horrible memories. But guess what? I deserve to be tortured. I deserve to be electrocuted with that torture machine called my heart. I want it to end. I want her suffering to end.

Funny how when you're in love, you start to forget about yourself. You start to forget that you need to take care of yourself but sometimes you don't. Because all that matters is them. Her. Dylan.

The picture of her face when she looked at me. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes a horrible, dead, dark brown color, almost black. It's color deepened when I looked her in the eye. Her eyebrows were narrowed, not in confusion. But in disgust. Like she's regretting everything. She probably was. I pull out my phone and go to my photo gallery. I scroll through all the pictures till I stop when I see the four I was looking for. Us. We were fifteen. We were at the carnival. And we were happy.

I've never been a religious person but right now, I want to go into a church and beg for forgiveness. I want to rid me of the sins I've produced and rub holy water on my forehead. But, just like Satan, it will burn. It will burn because I'm nothing but a demon. I'm nothing but a monster. Made by the devil himself.

Tears run down my cheeks as I hear her scream. Scream number six. It wasn't high pitched but it was in agony. Again, I let the scream stab me in the chest and this time, I sit up. I look at the hospital building and do what I have to do.

"I'm sorry Dylan." I say it audible enough for the middle-aged woman entering the building to look down at me. She furrows her brows at me before shaking her head and opening the door. "God, I'm crazy." I laugh to myself before standing up and putting my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket. "But we're all a little crazy. Aren't we, Dylan?"

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