Only Bad Girls Get Good Grades

There's No Room In This Hell No Room In The Next.

"Oh my god Ris, I'm so fucking sorry."I hear through the phone. I look down shamefully, thinking of the reasons of why he said that. i sit up on the bed, my eyes sore and red from crying. Jamia left the room, going into the kitchen to most likely make something to eat for me. Not saying I'm going to eat it, I'll probably end up throwing it up anyway.

"I-I'm Alright" I say softly, not wanting to worry him. I've got enough people stressed right now. I know its too late though, I ignored him for almost two weeks, He could hear me sobbing. He must know I'm a wreck.

"Don't lie to me, Ris. I've heard you cry every day this week." He says, making me want to cry again. I'm such a whiny little bitch. Stressing everyone out, hurting them further by my unwilling attitude. I can't do anything right. I'm a failure. "Clarissa, please don't do what I know you will. I love you. Don't hurt yourself."

"Why don't you hate me?" I mutter, regretting it when it leaves my mouth. I know he doesn't hate me, But I think he should. I think everybody should completely loathe my presence on this world. "Why do you care so much for such a shattered person? It's probably to late for me Gerard."

"You are so far from shattered, Ris. You're only cracked. Please don't say things like that, you're scaring me." he says, sounding scared. He sounds like someone is strangling a kitten in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Gerard." I burst out the sob I had been holding for a while now, My head bowing from feeling so weak.

"Don't be. Just remember, we love you, okay? We think about you all the tim-"

" I should be sorry if you have to thinkk." And with that, I heartlessly close the phone and cry, tossing the usless nokia across the room. I know i was harsh. I know he's only trying to help. I know he cares. But I wish he didn't. I wish so goddamn much that he didn't give two shits because that would make this whole killing yourself thing so much easier.

I hear the door open and Jamia walks in, a bowl of soup is in her grasp. She rushes it over to me, moving me like a mannequin to sit up under the covers. I feel like a robot, or maybe a doll. Everyone else has control of my life now, I just stand and let them fix and move me, trying to control my life. However I believe I'm a porclain doll if any, Im so fucking fragile, I crack from the slightest downfall.

She hands me the bowl silently, setting it on my lap calmly before sitting beside me on the other side of the bed. I look down at the mixture of vegetables and swirly noodles, not really wanting to eat it, But by the way Jams is looking at me, I have to. I pick a spoonful up to my mouth, putting it in reeluctantly and swallowing. I repeat the process about 15 times before I get full. I set it to the side, laying back down again.

I almost fall asleep when this gross feeling occurs in my stomach that makes me attempt to get up and rush to the bathroom. I trip a couple times, but I make it to the toilet to spew out everything I had just the consumed. Jamia rushes behind me, looking at me with pity filled stares. She helps me clean myself up again and unsteadily walk back to the bed to do what I was doing before she arrived. Wallowing in my self loathing feelings.

~~~~

A week after that, I still can't hold food down. But somethings different today, I smell something drift through the room when I wake up. It's a smell that went missing long ago, one that I haven't smelt in weeks upon weeks. It was a peculiar coffee smell, one that only a single man would ever have. He had taken it with him when they left, leaving the house void of the wonderous smell.

I try to stand on the underused legs, wanting to see if my suspicions are just my imagination. However when I go to step, my muscles give out, leaving me to tumble to the ground with a loud thump. Footsteps approach the room speedily and soon the door swings open, proving my suspicions correct.