Antisocial [h.s]

[ten]

His hands roamed my young body, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath. "Stop, please,'' I begged as a rough hand held me down. "I don't like it, I don't want it, please, stop.''

He chuckled behind me and pulled the blanket up higher while tugging my shorts down. "Wouldn't want you to be cold,'' he whispered, his lips trailing down the side of my neck and then reaching my shoulder. 

"Mommy!" I cried out. I began to sob further. "Please stop, please. Stop!"

I cried roughly into my pillow before muffling a scream. 

I could still feel his rough hands and it felt like my body was coated with dirt. I tried to shake it off but I couldn't. I checked my phone for the time, I mean, of course it's four in the morning. I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

I rubbed my eyes and looked over at Perrie's empty bed, grateful she wasn't there to hear my screaming. I took a big breath and grabbed my Macbook. Mine and Liam's grandparents gave us each a Macbook Pro as graduation presents. They were quite shocked I had made it through high school, I mean afterall, my illness is still an unknown case. 

I lifted the lid and once it loaded I opened the document again. It's something I've been working on since I was 13, of course I incorporated my diary entries from childhood into the making and I have edited my earlier writing because my writing has gotten stronger as I got older and I needed to improve it. 

The document is my life, it's all of the things that I've lived with, the names were changed as well as the setting, but besides those details everything was true. It was a therapy technique I was forced into since I wouldn't talk to the therapist Auntie Karen and Uncle Geoff had forced me to go to and 'talk' about my problems. Mostly the both of us just sat there, I wrote my feelings while she observed me, nothing happened, she didn't read it but it actually did make me feel better. 

I'm quite proud of my book in all honesty, it's quite long, it's 258 pages. It's called The Insignificant: 1 in 7 Billion It's a sad book, obviously, one insignificant person going through challenges that normal people don't: sister killing herself, abuse, father drinking himself to death, mother driving her car into a lake to kill herself with the insignificant person in the car with her, the insignificant person being petrified of humans, the person having a cancer no one else in the world has. It's one bad thing after another. Very dramatic.

And now a new part of the book begins, well it continues. There are many parts and here they go:

My Anti-Mortem

Samantha|Post-Mortem

Father|Post-Mortem

Mother|Post-Mortem

High School Hell

Post-Graduation

A "New Beginning" They Say

As you can see, I want to be a writer, but being a writer, you must experience things, but my struggles are the only things I know. My one goal before I inevitably die earlier than most is to get something published. So when I'm gonna be in the hospital once more after they say I have a heart attack or after they say I've got a couple weeks to live, I'll send my book to a publishing house I admire and hopefully before I die I will get news that they like it and are going to publish it, but they'll also ask "What happened to Elle in the end?" and once they do ask that, I will add one final part called My Post-Mortem and I'll ask Liam to write it for me after my death so it can be concluded with honesty the way it was started. 

Literature is my passion, it always has been. I was surprised when I found out I was healthy enough to go to University, of course there was a doctor at the nearest hospital who was given my files just in case something were to happen.

It's still unknown whether I'll be able to finish University and share my knowledge but it doesn't matter to me much if I die or live, sure I've thought about a healthy future but that scares the hell out of me because I don't know how successful I'll be. Death doesn't scare me though, but the thought of dying unhappy pisses me off. Most people don't die happy, my family sure didn't, they were all miserable after my sister killed herself after she got pregnant at 16. I've continued living because I refuse to die miserable, I need to find my happiness first before the illness kills me.

~-~

Harry's POV

"Liam?" I called over to his side of the room, he was only on his computer.

"Yeah?'' he turned his head and looked at me.

"Blake told me that she has a lot of medication she needs to take but doesn't, what are they for?'' I asked curiously, that question and the lines up her chest have been lingering in my head.

"She should tell you-wait, she said she hasn't been taking them?" he looked frantic and then I nodded. "Shit. They're antibiotics, depression, insomnia and anxiety shit that she isn't supposed to go off of. Is there anything else you think she needs to tell me? I need to know, Harry.''

"What would happen if she got off her meds?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"Well there are a lot of possibilities. But has she mentioned anything to you about fighting or going to the gym or anything?"

Shit. I can't lose her trust and we made a deal. 

"She said she used to fight but she stopped a while ago,'' I lied and he nodded, seeming to believe me. "Before you charge into her dorm room, like I know you will soon, just think about the possible side effects. Do you want her to stress? Do you want her to be mad at you?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "No,'' Liam mumbled.

"Exactly. If you just go to her that abruptly you would've done something irrational resulting in both of you stressing out, I know your conscience,'' I explained logically, leaning back against the wall to face him, parts of my legs dangling off the side of my bed. "If you're confronting her about something she doesn't want to do but needs to, demanding she does as you tell her then she'll act stubbornly and you'll get pissed off and she'll get pissed off."

"You're right, Harry. And how do you know her so well?"

"Basically talking till 2 am for three nights with someone makes you really understand a person,'' I said with a smile on my lips that I couldn't control. "She's not scared of me, Liam, like, we don't hug or touch much but we can talk for so long and she doesn't even stutter or look afraid, she laughs, she smiles and jokes, she rambles about stupid things, she lets me play with her fingers and make innapropriate remarks. Blake's a really good person, I just wish she'd let more people see it." 

Liam held a knowing smirk and I scrunched my eyebrows at him. "God, you two just met and you're already crushing on each other,'' he shook his head. "Just don't hurt her, Styles, or else I really will beat the shit out of you."

"I won't hurt her, but Liam, I could take you, when do I ever lose a fight?"

"When you're drunk or high off whatever your game is off. Oh, also, don't be around her when you're high or drunk, okay? She doesn't need to see that. And if you ever tell her about your using problem, do not tell her about me. She knows I've done a few things but I've kept the University party details vague.''

I nodded in understanding. "I think I'm gonna tone it down this semester, I don't wanna screw things up with Blake.''

"If you weren't a druggie I'd approve of you,'' Liam joked and I rolled my eyes.

"Everybody has unhealthy addictions,'' I noted. 

"True,'' he acknowledged before sliding off his bed. "I'm going to go talk to Blake about her meds, see you later.''

"See ya.''

He left and I fell back on my bed. 

If I tell her about my drug probelm at some point, would she think any differently about me? Would she be disgusted? I only do them for fun at parties and sometimes when I'm just chilling with some lads or with a chick. It's not that much of a problem anyways, I still function, I get my work done, I think coherent thoughts, she and I both fight so she can't say anything bad about that. Why am I thinking so much about this anyway? I'll probably just end up telling her in a month or something.