A Moment in the Crowd

Chapter 34: Numb escape

It's been a month.

No texts, no calls, no updates.

I've been numb for a month, and I honestly don't remember the last time I smiled. If I don't smile, or laugh, or cry, or feel anything, then I can convince myself that the pain isn't there. I put on my face for the public, but it hasn't been genuine since my mother placed the magazine in my hands.

I resumed attending classes soon after my heart sank to the pit of my stomach, and haven't run into Miles or Harry or Brandon or Dylan or even Amy. It hasn't been that hard to stay solitary. Amy went home shortly after the incident with Miles, and I assume Miles got kicked out. I don't know really.

Amy gave away the 5SOS tickets that we'd planned on using, but I guess I've already had my fair share of 5SOS. Knowing that I wouldn't go was the closest I'd come to feeling any form of emotion in weeks. I found out through a simple text from Amy that was stated so dryly, I assumed she was as numb as me.

I'm living in a small student appartement off-campus, and my mom gathered my things from the dorm room. She was practically living with me up until a few weeks ago. I had to convince her that I was fine. It took longer than I'd hoped.

I get flashes of Harry's toned torso, inked with butterflies and sparrows and a million other pictures. I never got to ask him what they meant. I see the way his wet hair flicked water into my face and I replay the fake confessions that I had convinced myself were real.

They weren't. He was just dating Kendall. I shouldn't be surprised. I'm not, I convince myself I'm not.

The painful November air has descended and the sun barely peaks through the grey clouds. I hike my bag higher up my shoulder and it crumples the thick sweater that keeps my freezing body warm. My black jeans cover my legs, but I can still feel the wind pass easily through the fabric.

I stare blankly ahead as I near the humanities building for my 4 till 7 history. Luckily, I was able to catch up on some of the work and I didn't allow myself to miss too much. I worked too hard to get into this university to be distracted by anything else. 

As I cross the patch of grass that rounds the corner to the humanities building, I can almost see the crowd of people gathered around Harry's panting body and Miles' bloodied face. I shake the scene away and I blame the wind for the sting I feel in my eyes.

"Lily?" My heart sinks at the unfamiliar sound of my name on someone else's tongue and I turn to face Christina and Scarlette.

"Oh, Christina and Scarlette, right?" They both nod their heads and I approach them gently. I don't bother offering them a smile, I know it wouldn't be genuine anyway.

"We heard about Miles. We didn't know he was like that, honestly." They both look at me with pity, as if I'm a victim. I guess, to them I am. Still, the mention of Miles causes me to cringe.

"It's okay, really." I shrug and offer them a polite nod.

"Let us make it up to you? Please?" Christina asks me and I eye her suspiciously, as if I can't trust her.

"What do you mean?" I ask in my usual monotone.

"Come to a party tonight? It's in Scar's residence and it'll be great. Only first years. C'mon, you'll have fun, I promise." She's nearly pleading with me by the end of her statement, and I just want to shut off the whiny tone that rings in my ears.

"Yeah sure, where and when?" I ask quickly, shuffling on my feet.

"It's a Med-Syd around 10pm. See you then!" She waves at me as her and Scarlette walk off together.

I roll my eyes. The last thing I feel like is going to a party. Maybe I just won't show.

My history class has gradually developped into one of my favourite lectures This time, we discuss the details of the Korean War and I envelop myself into the course completely for the full 3 hours.

-

I plop my bag onto my bed and it creaks in resistence as I sigh and lay down on it anyway, adding to the creaking pressure. I use my unfinished meal-plan card to get myself a salad and a fruit drink that I can bring up to my room. I eat in front of my computer screen and debate whether or not I should show up to that party.

On one hand, I really don't feel like going to a party. On the other hand, I'm also really tired of being alone all the time. I spent the majority of my high school years like this and I shouldn't allow myself to slip back in to bad habits.

I reluctantly put on a tight dress, making sure to push the top down low and expose the clevage from my chest. I pair the ensemble with heels and some trashy makeup. Maybe if I can get drunk enough, I'll be able to hook up with someone. Maybe that tactic will remove the ache from my chest, and stop my heart from beating in the empty pit of my stomach. Maybe.

I sling an oversized leather jacket over my shoulders and make my way to Med-Syd residence. I hear the booming of loud music and I step in from the cold night outside. No one is in the front hallway, so I direct myself towards the source of the music. As I come closer, I see stumbling girls hanging off of guys in every corner of the hallway. Soon I can barely walk through the crowd of people, and the music pounds in my eardrums.

I enter into a small room where the alcohol is being handed out, and I take whatever it is that they hand to me. I don't even bother to look at the cup before I drink the entire thing in several gulps. I can feel the painful sting of liquor slide down my throat, and reach for more. The guy handing out drinks stares at me and I give him a look.

"What?" I snap at him and he shrugs and pours me more.

I can't stop myself from gulping it down again and throw my hand out to the same dumb guy who holds the same dumb expression on his face.

He doesn't question me this time, and willingly pours me more, filling my entire cup to the brim. I thank him before leaving the crowded room. I can feel the sharp corners of the residence building begin to blurr and the sensation of a clouded mind hits me like a wave. Gyrating bodies and pounding music sounds and I think I'm dancing. I feel myself grinding against something, but I don't know what or who. I am told that my grinding body is against someone when I feel hands grab me firmly by the waist. I allow the feeling of letting go to consume me and I hear someone whisper in my ear.

"Follow me." The voice says and I listen to it without thinking.

A blurr of faces and bodies pass as I follow the hand that holds me tightly. It leads me into a darkened room, and closes the door before turning to me. The room is empty, and the music is softer from here. I roll my head back and plop myself down on the bed. The hands trail up my thigh and lift the skirt to my dress. Within a few seconds, a door slams open and I can feel my body jolt in surprise. I can't make out the blurry face or the words it screams before I'm being lifted and transported away from my escape. I feel the edges of my vision dot with black spots, before I'm consumed into complete darkness.