It Wasn't Supposed To End This Way (A Starkid Fan Fiction)

Chapter 38-#StarkidCharity & Cheating

*UPDATE 7/18/14 By clicking the external link you will be able to listen to every song on the list for the event. You may need a Spotify account, but you will be able to hear every song. Mobile users will not be able to use this feature :(*

Chapter 38

Last night gave me some extra pride that I didn't know was concealed within me. I can't believe Clark knew that singing to a bunch of strangers in a bar some over-played pop song by Miley Cyrus would help me feel better. Granted I like Wrecking Ball, I think it's a good song, but just the same. It's the fact that I'm shocked how well it worked. I feel better, I feel stronger and not as fucked up as I was when we were on the bus. 

I don't though, erase the dialogue I wrote on my drive. I like the idea of that play - the whole idea of what if our lives were actually planned out only to have some twist have to make someone re-write it. Or what if that's the way it was planned out, and someone's just waiting for us to find the next thing to help us in life? Either way, I'm going to keep this script. 

The next morning I'm a bit disoriented from the lack of sleep after Clark and I got back from the bar. We'd decided to get a room together and I'll tell you one thing - Clark and I didn't do much sleeping last night. It's honestly refreshing being in a relationship with someone like this. With Jeff it was him opening me up and bringing me out of my shell. With Clark it's similar, except I've been through even more, but I'm more willing to express myself. I'm not sure how exactly I can explain this so you can understand. But I'll tell you this. I'm happy. I didn't take my pills last night. And I'm happy.

I get up from our bed and look back quickly to a sleeping Clark. He has a faint smile on his face as he settles himself after me getting up. I know he's thinking of last night and the way he helped me. He must really love me if he can just do something so spontaneous like that and think I won't be mad at him. I'm not mad at him, I'm happy he did it honestly. 

The water from the shower warms me from the inside and out, the comfort such a wonderful sensation. The weather isn't any less harsh in Chicago than in New York, I'll say that. There's so much snow here, and I heard that the last two days have been the first days in a week that it's been safe to drive. Well good on us for our luck. For once. 

I wash my long hair, smiling at contentment and humming the song I'm singing later today for the event. I picked a song earlier this morning; I had woken up with it in my head. I'm not going to reveal anything about it, other than I love the way it sounds. I close my eyes and sway slightly from side to side, letting the warmth from the shower take over my senses. 

Then, they appear again. The eyes I had seen when I was showering that first morning before Apocolyptour. I gasp, opening my eyes as quickly as I can and nearly slipping on the shower and breaking my neck. I have to support myself, trying to stand again. I back against the shower wall and breathe heavily, trying to calm down. As stupid as it sounds, I close my eyes again and concentrate. It's okay, Alex. Those eyes aren't real, they aren't real. I open my eyes again and I breathe. I don't know what those eyes are supposed to mean, why they continue to appear. Whose eyes are they anyways? I'm not sure.

I turn the water off and stand in the bathtub-naked. Bare naked. Terrified again. Always something. Always something has to happen to depress me. Fuck.

I hear the low rumble of thunder and the slight pounding of rain on the walls. Dammit.

It takes about ten minutes to coerce myself out of the shower, not able to convince myself it's okay. I'm really stubborn.

I get dressed in a sea foam green tank top, over lapping it with a brown leather jacket, pulling my hair out from under it. Then I put on the usual skinny jeans and tug on another pain of my brown boots. Then I apply my make-up, put on my earrings and look in the mirror. I still see distress in my eyes, threatening to burst out of me like flames. I quickly turn away, blinking a few tears that may try to escape.