Save Her (Daniel Howell)

Chapter 14; Strength in Numbers

(P. O. V. Bailey)
5 missed calls from Hazel-Slays.
7 missed calls from Zo-Zo.
4 missed calls from Sprinkle-Of-Louise.
15 missed calls from Philly.
25 missed calls from Danny Boy.

Over 80 text messages in the week that has passed since I saw Dan in the hall, and I had yet to move myself from my bed. I'd slept mostly, only moving to use the bathroom. I wanted to reach out to my friends. I wanted to tell them that I was sorry. That I didn't know what was wrong with me, but I couldn't.

Moving here was suppose to be my fresh start, but I ended up right back where I began. Losing people I cared about, shutting out my family, and sad. Sure, I wasn't as sad as before, but I was alone nonetheless.

You are an idiot.
Dan would never like you back.

Your 'friends' are happier without you around.

I squeezed my eyes shut, burring my face farther in my pillow. I pulled the blankets up over my head, and felt myself drift back to sleep. Honestly I had no idea what day it was, or what time it was, and I didn't care. I just wanted to stay in my room until everyone forgot about me.

Face my friends was to hard. I'd made a fool of myself already, and I didn't want to talk about it. But I knew if I saw the girls, that's EXACTLY what they'd tell me to do. It's just easier for me to be alone. It was easier for me to push everyone away.

I'm sure that's what they'd want too.

My phone buzzed again, and I groggily reached over to the nightstand and grabbed it. I held it up, and squinted at the bright light. It was a text message.

From Dan.

I didn't bother opening it, I shut my phone off, putting it down and rolling over in bed. I heard noise coming from downstairs, and mumbled voices. I assumed it was mom and dad, but there were too many different voices. Dr. Collins, maybe? Honestly, I was sure they were talking about me, and how much of a mess I was.

I laid in my cocoon, trying to listen, and make out who was downstairs talking, and what it was they were speaking about. After what felt like hours, it became quite. I felt myself begin to drift back to sleep, but was jolted awake by a knock on my door. Then my mom peaked her head through.

"Bailey, honey, can you come downstairs?" She asked sweetly.

I used what little energy to groan pathetically at her. I heard her sigh at me, disappointed. I honestly felt like I couldn't move, no matter how guilty I felt, my body wasn't having any of it.

"Please, hun. You have been up here for days. If you can find the energy, come downstairs and I'll make you some hot coco and we can talk?" She said, then she shut the door.

I sighed.

Come on Bailey, you've disappointed her enough, I thought, You can at least find the courage to go downstairs.

Somehow, I managed to move my mostly numb feeling body out of bed, and to the bathroom. I brushed my hair and teeth so I didn't look quite like a wild beast, and then made my way downstairs.

Mom was sitting on the sofa, and two steaming hot cups of coco sat in front of her on the coffee table. She smiled when she saw me coming down the stairs, and it made me feel a bit better.

I plopped on the sofa next to her, and grabbed my Buffy the Vampire Slayer mug off the table. I sipped the hot liquid, the creamy contents burning my tongue and throat as I swallowed it.

"So..." I said meekly, and mom nodded.

"Did you happen to hear voices from your room earlier?" She asked, suddenly serious, but gentle. She's always been extremely gentle.