Boulevard Of Broken Dreams [ Wattys 2015 ]

XII - "Collapsing.."

"-March 09

Normal Day

-March 10

Normal Day

-March 11

Hyper Day xx

-March 12

Normal Day

-March 13

...?"

 The small piece of sharp glass met the now pale bruised surface, like it found its place. The rough strength pressed on, made it sink deeply, move slowly in a straight line, pure red substance showing right after.  Salty tasting water filled the two dark hazel, emotionless mirrors of the soul. A huge breath escaped lungs, a breath which was held for hours in, at least that's how it seemed.

 And there, the piece left another mark. And another. After every hit, there was a small relief.

But the massive pain wouldn't fade.

Chest hurting, heart slowing.

A small shaky hand reached the black leather journal, dragging it slowly on top of those pale knees. The other hand found the cute pink pen somewhere in the matress and so it started.

"Dear diary.

I'm collapsing. Again. All these stupid thoughts in my head. All these fuckings feeling are ripping me off. I don't want to be like this. Not again.

I want to fuckin' laugh. I'm so shitty I keep telling  myself i'll be just fine. Just fine, shit. For fuck's sake, when have I EVER been just fine? When will I ever be?

Possibly never. Not possibly, but never EVER.

I'm a looser. I really am. I don't even understand why I keep writing this shit, like anyone's gonna read it. Maybe because there's no one else I could share this with. They would think I'm nuts, because I really am."

__________________________________________________________

oh well excuse me but i'm f#^kin raging right now cause i come back from 8 sh&%ty hours of work, take care of my mom's butt then i find nothing in the fridge and ask her for food and she's just like hahaha i made pancakes but your brother ate them all and then went to party so I have to take a cute long walk to the supermarket at 11 fuckin pm to get some food in the fucking rain (let's not mention that i live in a ghetto and i'm white) and when i come back, my cute mom start yelling because i didn't get the right brand of milk telling me i'm the worst daughter ever.  thank you. really. i'm breaking the keyboard with every letter i hit from happiness.

Author's Point Of View

"Rise and shine!" Harry yelled and opened the windows.

She didn't move a muscle, her face buried in pillows and sheets up to her neck.

"Wake up it's time to move that butt!" He yelled louder.

Nothing but silence responded his loud ranting.

"Demi Lovato!" he yelled poking her arm, a frozen smile on his lips. "Alive? Come on get up, Ma-"

"Leave me alone." she whined like a five year old child.

"You okay?" Harry asked, his voice normal, finally.

"No. I'm sick." she murmured back.

"Why?"

"Not your business." she yelled.

"What is it? How can I help?"

"Jesus, Harry Styles. Girl problems. Fuck off now."

"Ow." he scratched the back of his head. "Umm...Need, anything?"

"No. I'm full of everything right now."

"Okay.. I hope you get better."

"You can't get better until they're gone." she murmured again.

He looked around not knowing what to do, and then reminded himself of food. She hadn't eaten since yesterday. She hadn't eaten yesterday.

"There are crepes with Nutella downstairs..." he said unsure.

"Yes."

"Do you want me t-"

"Yes. Bring them, please." she begged, still not moving

"Okay?!"

Rushing downstairs, he took two crepes, a mini jar of Nutella and a spreading knife. Then he took five teddy bear shape cookies and a bottle of water.

"That should be enough." Harry smiled at his own words, proud of the work he just did.

He put everything in a huge plate and carefully went back upstairs to her room.

She hadn't made the effort to move, of course, so he left everything on the bed, making sure not to create any mess. At least not more than her room was.

"Sweet smell of heaven." Demi whispered, turning her head in the plate's direction. Her face was covered by the lavender hair and he could barely see her skin.

He smiled at the view, suddenly wanting to caress the messy hair away and see her sleepy face.

Harry stopped his arm, not noticing it was already on her shoulder. He quickly pat it to break the awkward moment and shove himself away.

"Eat as much as you can. Yell me if you want more. I'll be downstairs, watching TV."

She gave him an 'okay' gesture and her hand slowly dragged the plate to herself, crawling. She did look very sick and tired.

"Okay, bon appetit." he smiled, biting his lip right after.

"Bye, Harry." she greeted in a sleepy voice.