Stronger

Chapter 11

Well now what?

There was nothing good that could possibly come from this.  Nothing.

Looking down at my current state, I was sort of relieved that I hadn't taken off my underwear. 

Can't say Louis was feeling the same.

He shifted around uncomfortably, taking the covers on the couch and wrapping them around his bare body, as the 3 onlookers just stared at us.  In disgust?  I couldn't tell.  Their faces each told a different story.

Niall looked confused; probably because he had thought me and Micah had a thing together, which, that up until now, I had thought we had too.

Zayn's face brought me excessive anxiety.  His brow was furrowed and his hands were balled into fists, which were clenched tightly.  His eyes were glued to me, mainly, but they did flicker between myself and Louis as though he was trying to assess the situation and figure out how he was going to react.

The next face dealt a heavy blow to my already confused emotional state.  Micah's mouth hung open, slightly, trembling a little as if he were going to cry at any second.  He looked hurt, and I hate it.

Fuck, I really messed shit up.

"Well, guess the cats out of the bag," Niall spoke first, laughing lightly; although the tension was still cuttable with a knife.  Hell, a spoon even.

"I-" Louis began but was soon cut off by a seething Zayn who abruptly barged out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.

"It's all my fault," I whispered to myself, placing my face between my hands.

"You don't say?" I looked up to see a crying Louis looking back at me.  He shook his head before getting up and stalking to his bedroom, not even caring about his unfortunate disposition.

"I'm going back to Paige," Niall stated quickly, and darted into his room.

Silence.

That's all there was.

What could I say? "Oh hey Micah I actually like your friend instead oops lol," seemed a little harsh, but true nonetheless.

"Listen Micah," I began, "I don't know what got a hold of me," Lies, "I was leaving the bathroom and I ended up knocking on Louis' door for no apparent reason," more lies, "and then one thing led to another and we just kind of.. yeah, I was still pretty wasted."

I'm going to hell for all these lies.

My words seemed to have lightened the mood because Micah's features softened a bit before letting out a deep sigh.

"It's not like we're dating or anything right?" he said while laughing a bit.

"Yeah, no, I guess not."

"Haha, but you know who was? Louis was, that's who, and you just ruined a good thing Harry."

I nearly chocked at his last words.

"Good thing" wow how even is that possible.  Zayn only seemed to be all on Louis to make me jealous, even if they were dating, I didn't have a good feeling about him.  Not a single one.

"I know I just-"

"I don't think you do," Micah interrupted, raising his voice an octave, "they've known each other for nearly 4 years and just now mustered the courage to date and now it's over, they're over Harry, and now I don't know what he's going to do without him.  I don't know why I thought you could be different.  You're all the same.  Guys, that is.  You only want what satisfies you and leave everything and everyone in total disarray behind you.  I actually feel sorry for you."

His words made me feel a pain I haven't felt in years.  One that left me disfigured and deranged, bringing nothing but chaos and suffering into an already insufferable life. I wish it would end.

"I know I'm a piece of shit, Micah. It's nothing new to me. I wish I hadn't existed and none of this would have happened. Louis would still be with Zayn and you'd be happy. Guess I should've figured it out sooner."

And with that I was off the couch and out of Niall's apartment.

*

I pulled into the parking lot of my complex and stumbled out of the car. The all too long car ride gave me enough time to decide on how I was going to end it.

Cutting myself would take too long and would be too painful.  Shooting myself in head would be quick, but I had no gun and the mess I would leave behind would resemble too much of the shit life I was leaving.

Pills was the easiest way to go.

I ran up the stairs of the apartment, tripping on several along the way, and finally made it to my floor.

I'm doing it, I'm actually doing it.

My body was trembling and my heart was beating entirely too fast, and I hadn't even overdosed yet.

I quickly tried to unlock my door, but to no avail.  My hands were shaking rapidly and the keys only kept falling to the floor.  I eventually fell with them.

My thoughts weren't understandable.  I didn't want to go through with this. I really didn't.  But I knew I had to.  I just had to.  I tried standing up, holding the door knob for support, until I found myself on the floor again, sobbing.

I sobbed for a while.

I sobbed for the misfortune of everyone who had met me throughout my life.

I sobbed for my mom who had given birth to such a sad and appalling soul.

But most of all, I sobbed for Louis.

I couldn't have been there for more than 30 minutes when the door adjacent from me opened, and a pregnant woman stepped out, hesitating before walking over.

I hid my face, with the exception of my eyes, as I watched her take the keys from the floor, unlock the door, and push the door open.

"It happens," she whispered quietly before turning and walking back into her room.

It took all of the strength I didn't have to stand up and walk into my flat, not even bothering to close the door behind me.

I had a mission.

I raced into my bathroom, scavenging through the medicine cabinet before finding what I was looking for.

Ibuprofen.

I closed the cabinet and looked at myself in the mirror.  My eyes were bloodshot and my face was an accompanying red.

"You're not okay," I said to myself before walking out of the bathroom.

I sat on my bed and unscrewed the lid to my sweet escape.  This was easier.  Easier than actually trying to make things better.  Besides, they always went bad.

I didn't even care about water.  I just needed this.

I lifted the container to my lips and shook it.

1.. 2.. 4.. 10.. 13..

I soon lost count.

Minutes passed and I felt my eyes growing heavy.  It's finally happening.  I'll be gone.  My paradise will soon be found and I'll be free.  Free at last.

I spread out across my bed and stared up at the ceiling.  It began to resemble a place I once knew.  A place of peaceful ensembles and melodic arabesques.  One I was ready for.

I noticed a dark figure looming over me.  My Angel.  It's been far too long. 

"I'm ready," I spoke to it, preparing myself for ascension.

"No you're not," were the last words I heard before I felt myself being lifted up; everything going black.