Tumble (Drarry)

10

Draco Malfoy

🔅🔅🔅

Harry was finally asleep.

After four fucking hours of begging him to get some rest, he finally pulled through. Of course I enjoyed his company, but he had been in the hospital with me for 12 hours now. It was clear from the moment he came in that he was tired so I can't even imagine how he must feel right now.

We didn't talk about much, just made small talk until he slowly and carefully closed his eyes. It didn't take but 10 seconds for him to fall into a light sleep. Small breaths of air came out of his chapped lips steadily as his chest raised up and down.

5 minutes after he had shut his eyelids over his emerald eyes, just like curtains over a beautiful masterpiece; the nurse came into my room awakening Harry.

"Oh! I'm very sorry to wake you sir, but I need to speak to you," He says to Harry, then he looks over to me. "In private, if possible."

Harry doesn't waste any time attempting to wake up. He stands up quickly and nods, following the nurse out of my dull room.

I lay in the uncomfortable bed, attempting to listen to their conversation but I can't hear more than mumbles. Not knowing what they were talking about made me extremely nervous.

Paranoia takes over my body and I want to burst out. I want to jump out of my bed and take a long shower to wash all of the mental filth off of me caused by past memories. I want to pick off my fingernails one by one. I want to grind my teeth so hard that they fall off. I want to rip each and every hair folical off my pale and disgusting head. I want to smash a mirror and pick up each piece just to look at myself. To see the face of pure isolation and disappointment. To see my mother and father in my eyes and tear them out so I can never see their faces ever again. To see my bloody and cracked lips and wish I could do nothing but pick at them all day. I want nothing more than to leave my body and scream vulgar words towards the sky. I don't care if there is a God that can hear them or not, because if there is then I would like Him to hear and digest each and every single word that comes out of my mouth.

But I don't.

Instead I lay motionless in the hard bed because that's all I can fucking do. All I want to do is stand up and leave this fucking hospital.

But I can't. I have no control over my life. I have less control than I did before I attempted to kill myself. I thought dying would help me, but all it did was put me in an even worse situation.

I guess that old saying is correct.

Dying is easy, living is harder

🔅🔅🔅

A/N: yes I did just use a Hamilton quote, thank you for asking. Also one of my friends is being a huge bisnatch and not telling me any of his problems because he doesn't want to be "negative" around me. Like ho I'm not a porcelain doll, I can handle.