We're Only Liars // Peterick

☆We're So Miserable And Stunning☆

*How is everyone? I hope all my Munchkins are okay? This is sort of a filler*

Patrick's POV

The steamed glass pannels stood rigid before me, the cascading downpour of fiery water fell upon my back as I sat crosslegged on the ceramic flooring. I let my fingers draw unidentable letters and jumbled words on the pannels, my scabbed tips made the steam become scratchy. My alter conscience wrote the same undeniable words over and over again.

Elisa, dirty, worthless.

I looked down at my red raw legs, I previously took a layer of skin off with a nailbrush which belonged to Elisa. The water burned every nook and crany of my sore body, I left no place unscrubbed. I honestly felt dirty beyond belief, my skin was literally crawling with her feather touch and heavy words. They may have left my body but they remain in my mind. Its hard to forget the events that took place with the woman I love, and still do as a matter of fact.

Her image is embedded in the darkness of my memories, I would thank her for them but she's gone. I don't know whether I should be relieved or disappointed. But she said she will be coming back, hopefully that will be soon because she didnt finish her job. I'm still here wallowing in selfloath when she should be along side me telling or showing me how truly worthless I am, then maybe I wont feel so numb. Maybe the mental and physical abuse I could endure will be enough for me to feel again, but right now pain is something I desire. I desire it so much.

And here I am. Tracing the same water dripped words again and again. I dont understand how the words I write seem to disappear yet the real ones are still so clear, so vivid that I can still hear her voice, her hot breath beside my neck. They dont disappear but the words just do. I kept writing them though, until the scab on my fingertips wore away and bled. I pressed harder enjoying the pain that seethed through my hand and up my arm, I liked to feel pain and then I realised I needed more.

I eventually stood up, turning the faucet off before heading out into the misty room. My mind still in autopilot as I stared at my reflection in the clouded mirror. My hand automatically wiped at the condensation on the mirror to get a clearer image of myself. I needed my glasses to be fair since my contacts were out, but I managed to make out the person staring back at me.

My wet fair brown hair clung awkwardly to my cut forehead, I could hear the water drip on the tiled floor. My skin looked flushed, either from the scrubbing or the burning water. Maybe both. I dont care. What got my attention though was my body in general, I had worked so hard to lose all that unnecessary weight yet here I was, still as disgusting as ever. My broad shoulders stood abstractly up and out, a trail of delicate bruises lead down my flat chest to my untoned stomach. The weight I lost left the space it consumed. I couldn't seem to define my features in any way possible, they remained effortlessly wrong.

I remember a certain photoshoot we done just before the hiatus, we were promoting 'Folie A Deux' for Kerrang! magazine. Pete walked into the studio shirtless, absolutely flaunting his perfect assets whilst being. completely cocky towards the photographer. It would annoy most but annoyance was never something I felt, utter envy engulfed me when I saw his body. Only envy and envy alone. I wanted to have pure confidence to strut around in bare minimum with a huge smile on my face just like Pete did. Yet I couldnt, never. Not with all the rolls of guilty fat I held, the fat that clung needily to my frame, the fat that held back any sign of happiness. I couldnt stand to watch him helplessly flirt with the lighting technician, it weridly killed me inside.

Anyway, at that shoot Andy and Joe burst through the doors laughing over something I wasnt a part of since I arrived early. They wore tight fitting tees, both clad in skinny jeans. Then I looked at myself. A stripped baggy jumper and loose style jeans, basically anything that didn't cling onto me. I was disgraceful. The photographer wanted me to stand side on against Pete, with Joe and Andy in the background.

That was awful, us side on aginst each other just gave critical people a chance to compare. Inspite of my protests the picture was taken and released against my will, Pete never understood my complaints. He would always tell me 'Your perfect to me, weight is a factor I rule out in our friendship' blah blah blah, how could I believe a word that came out of his flawless mouth. It seemed hypocritical too hear the word 'perfect' from a perfect man himself.

My mind came back to the reflection before me. It held a shaking figure. I shouldn't let my jealous thoughts eat me alive but they're too strong to control. My breathing was irregular as I watched my stomach spasm for air. Calm down I thought to myself as I slowly sat on the cold tiles beneath me.

You need to lose weight.

Yeah I think I know that.

You're stupidly fat, you haven't even lost anything in the first place. You need too start soon.

I have lost weight, people have told me so.

They were only protecting your emotions Patrick. You're still as revoulting as ever.

Yeah, I know. Worthless right?

Right.

Thought so. Air felt rationed as tears fell onto my tightened chest, I was being suffocated by my own mind. Maybe I was being punished, however I didn't stick around long enough to find out since I eventually passed out.

*I dont even know what im writing anymore, sorry for the complete and utter shittiness here. Any mistakes? I will fix them. Anyway can I just say something that has been on my mind for a while? Good okay. I MISS PETE'S SCREAMING! Sorry okay bye..

..Oh and 'Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dieing' is like my jam, thank you*

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'Thanks Pete'

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Buenos noches

-shesmywinona27