Playing With Fire || d.h

76. Sadness with a Dash of Anger

Your POV

The last eight months in London might as well have never happened. Any hope for getting better, staring a new life, and living as the kind of person I wanted to be has gone straight out the window, and so has my sanity.

I feel nothing. I hear nothing. I see nothing. I have become nothing.

I go through the phases of everyday, only speaking when spoken to, eating when someone tells me to. I'm only alive because other people want me to be. I'm basically a pet.

James and I are back together, I guess. At least, that's what he's been telling people, and I've realized the path of least resistance is the best option at this point. Jack and Macy both look on the verge of tears when they see James and I, but don't say anything, for fear of what he'll do to them.

I can't remember the last time I was sober, as weed and pills have become the main food group of my diet. The hollows in my cheeks grows everyday, and so does the massive void in my heart that Dan once occupied. Every time he crosses my mind, I want nothing more than to crawl in a hole and never look back.

I was a project for him. He saw a broken girl, and wanted to fix her. However, the second he realized the project was too much for him, he throws it away without a second chance. Every time he looked at me, he saw the bags under my eyes, and the scraps covering nearly every inch of my skin. I was damaged goods, and Dan's the kind of person who needs someone shiny and new. Every part of me wants to hate him for it, but I can't. If it was anyone else in his shoes, they'd have done the same thing, probably sooner.

I had been living in a fantasy world, believing opposites attract. Turns out, they only create chaos.

Macy's POV

The vacant expression in (y/n)'s sunken eyes haunts me every time I look into them. Her prominent cheekbones and dull expression scares the shit out of me. After moving to London, she had become inquisitive and bright, like a whole new person. The radiance in her eyes and color on her cheeks was something I'd never seen before, and her new self was something I couldn't help but be proud of. Something that gave me hope, that maybe just one of us could escape this hellhole, and not only survive, but also get the chance to thrive.

However, just as quick as it was lit, her light was blown out.

We have this pain in our hearts that we can't handle, and are willing to do anything to get rid of it. We blame and punish ourselves, and begin cutting and fucking and doing drugs until the endorphins start pumping through us like adrenaline, and we feel so fucking high, the world becomes cotton candy at the most colorful carnival in the world, only bloody and filled with infection. But now that we've started, it's impossible to stop, and we can never go back to not being the scarred, drugged up freak, because our bodies and minds have become battlefields, the grave sight for every last bit of normalcy we had. We become the druggie whore that no one will love, and we're all screwed, inside and out. Wash, rinse, repeat.

That's the thing about us damaged kids. We can play pretend all we want, but soon enough, reality kicks back in, and we're forced to live the life we've always been in. There's no getting better, no rising to the top, no defying the odds.

(Y/n)'s downfall puts a pit in my heart, but James' return sets a fire in my bones that gives me every instinct to rip his goddamn throat out. She has lost all free thought, going with every motion. I have to tell her to eat and sleep, like a mother taking care of her baby. And the worst part is, I know there's nothing I can do about it.

Dan's POV

A notification rings on my phone, and I realize it's from YouTube.

(YourUsername) just uploaded a video: We Broke Up