A/N: This chapter contains mention of suicide. Please do not read if this is triggering to you.
Sometimes, what begins as but an obsession, manifests into love, and from there it feels as though nothing can go wrong. Until it does...
September 1, 2015
"Don't wake up, don't wake up, don't. wake. up." I lay in bed, dreading tomorrow. I have no idea what to expect. I'm the new kid, the one everyone will talk about for a week or so, then it'll be like I never existed.
What the hell is wrong with me? I've moved before, why is this any different? I look at the clock, it reads 11:37. "What the fuck" I mutter under my breath. How have I been battling with myself for two and a half hours?
I decide to use one of those sleep meditation videos to try and go to sleep. I grab my phone and go to YouTube and listen to the video, soon getting lulled to sleep.
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"Ugh, why" I groan as I turn off my alarm, not wanting to get out of bed. I sit up in bed my bare chest getting hit with cold air from the window that I forgot to close last night.
"You can't do this, you're not good enough for them, you're weak" my thoughts of self-degradation coming back.
I have never been bullied, yet these thoughts entering my head sounded so true. I unwillingly move towards the edge of my bed, sitting there staring at the hardwood floor below me, my bare tanned feet resting gently on it.
I stand up stretching releasing all tiredness from my muscles. I grab my towel off of the chair by my desk and walk toward the bathroom. I stand in front of the sink, staring into the mirror at my reflection.
"You're ugly, they'll just make fun of your scrawny figure" I stare at my slightly toned body and frown, starting to believe this voice in my head.
I undress and walk over to the shower, turning it on before walking in, "Ah shit!" cold water pelts my naked figure, jumping in response. I quickly turn the hot water before I freeze. I shower peacefully and step out.
"Look at those scars, you're weak, you're a waste of air" I stare down at my forearms and sadness crosses my face as the voice returns taunting me again; tears well in my eyes, I wipe them away before wrapping the towel around my waist and walking back to my room.
"Greyson, are you ready?" my mother hollers down the hall to me, about 20 minutes after my shower. "No...." I respond, fear and sadness thick in my voice.
YOU ARE READING
Obsession
Teen Fiction"No one forgets their first love. You're experiencing all those endorphins and all that dopamine and that obsession with one another for the very first time in your life, so it makes it that much [cuter]." -James Marsden Greyson is a sophomore in hi...
