The Past Is In The Past||Calum Hood

Chapter Three

My soul felt like it had been ripped out, rolled into flooring and turned into a dance floor. How could I have been so stupid? Wow I’m an idiot. The realisation of that I talked to the boy who took my virginity and I didn’t realise? I really am a slut.

I always tried my hardest to forget my past. And so far it was going well. Of course now and again I would get awful flashbacks but doesn’t everyone get that about bad memories? However now, now I couldn’t ignore it. It was staring me in the face. I had Cals’ number and album. And his face is plastered everywhere, from magazines to billboards. Five seconds of summer will be there.

Realizing that I was complete whore hit me like a punch in the stomach; hard and difficult to breathe. I looked at myself in the mirror. Grimaced, I had to turn away. I felt a lump rising in my throat and my vision started to blur. At first I tried to hold back the tears, but then I remembered I was alone in my own room. So I let my emotions run free. I had never cried so hard. I began to shake and struggle to breathe, it was the equivalent of an asthma attack, but instead of being caused by extra fluid on the lungs, it was caused by guilt. When you’re having an asthma attack, the solution is usually pretty simple; an inhaler. But whereas when you’re having a guilt attack, the solution is not quite as simple.

I sat up, still shaking and crying I reached for my pencil sharpener. I unscrewed the screws and held the blade in-between my thumb and fore finger. I stared at it for a while, not noticing the tears drip down my top. Then I looked in the mirror. An ugly whore with mascara smudged down her face stared back at me.

I tightened my grip on the blade and started to cut my left arm. It hurt and probably would have caused my eyes to water if I hadn’t already been crying. Each cut was deeper than the last. Blood seeped from each one and was starting to get everywhere, another advantage of dark clothing I guess.

A weight felt as it had been lifted. I finally stopped cutting when my phone rang. Still shaking like a victim of Parkinson disease I pressed the large red answer button on my iPhone. It was cal.

“Hey gorgeous,” this word sent a shiver down my spine. I had only ever been called gorgeous by the boys who wanted some back in my party days. Because of this, I had no emotion or trust for the word. Most girls a flattered to be called such a thing, but not I. The word made me turn into a stone sculpture, grey and motionless. I had no idea if he was joking or not, which only made matters worse.

“Hi,” I didn’t want to sound arrogant or too enthusiastic because after all, he still looks like a god.

“You interest me Isla; I want to find out more. Pick you up tomorrow at one, and don’t worry, I know where you live...” and then he went. He put the phone down before I could refuse his offer. It was great that someone had taken an interest in me I suppose, but he gave me no information, where are going? What should I wear? Is it indoors or out? All serious questions that determine your outfit.

It was getting late so I decided to just go to bed not bothering getting a plaster for my wounds.

I was awoken to birds chirping outside my window. Everyone sees this as a classic movie style awakening but not me. I hate birds and I especially hate being woke up by them. I checked my phone and looked at the time.

SHIT!

It was eleven o’clock! Calum was coming in two hours and I’m still in bed!! I jumped up and ran into the shower within minutes I was out, dried and clothed. I always liked to rush these things because I spent so much time on my hair and makeup. Not because I am a material loving narcissistic bitch. It’s because I have awful scraggy hair and awful skin.

I’d finally finished and it was ten to one. I squirted some perfume into my hair and went down stairs, double checking myself in the mirror in the hall way. I put my shoes on and decided to wait in the living room. I watched an episode of my favourite show and checked my phone.

Twenty past one. Great, he’s late. This didn’t bother me to much because after all, I hadn’t even told him my address. I decided on another episode and then another and then another, it was now almost three and Calum still hadn’t showed.

How could I have been so naive? Why would someone like him, talk to someone like me? I bet asking me on a date was just a dare from the other band members. I am humiliated. I had even showered for this! I text Calum calling him an A-hole and went to bed to cocoon myself in my duvet.

I had finally got comfy when I heard a car pull into my driveway, I assumed it was my mother and didn’t move a muscle. Then I heard the doorbell so it can’t of been her. Reluctantly, I got up and answered the door.

“I’m sorry, I’ll explain on the way!” Calum screamed when I opened the door, and with that came him dragging me by the hand into his car, he hadn’t even gave me time to grab my phone or put on shoes!

The car started and so did my mind. It began wondering off, trying to figure out where Cal was taking me...