Wonderland // McFly

Only the Strong Survive

February 19, 2011

Dougie's first week of rehab was not great. Not only was he going through withdrawal, but they were putting him on different antidepressants that took their toll on him. Dougie had somehow gotten his phone and would call one of the boys or me every night, crying or sick from being so terrified.

It was heartbreaking.

But I was unbelievably proud of him. I know it's hard to do something that scares you, and at the Priory nobody stops you from leaving. Dougie could just walk out the door, but he didn't and that was amazing.

I had seen him as much as I could. I visited the day he was admitted and yesterday. They weren't supposed to let people in on the weekdays, but ever since I had told them I was Dougie's girlfriend, they seemed more lenient.

I was going to visit Dougie early in the day and the boys were going later tonight.

When I got to his room, I knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so I took my chances. I open the door to find him sitting on his bed, the same place he always was when I came to visit, and his sad face turns to a small smile.

"Hey Lil." He still doesn't look good.

"Hi Doug. How are you?" I ask, taking my coat off and putting in on the chair in the corner.

"I'm-" he sighs, "I'm okay."

"You are?" I ask, hopeful.

"Yeah." He says. I sit next to him on his bed. "I talked to Matt today."

"Matt?" I ask.

"Matt from Busted?" He asks me.

"Oh." I furrow my brow. "Why?" Dougie shrugs, looking out the window.

"He's been through this...three times. But now he's married. He's got his life together. I asked him how he did it."

"What did he say?"

"He told me not to resist. Not to lie. But I have to." He says, and I start to worry.

"No you don't, Dougie. This is a safe place. You can tell them the truth. That's why they're here." He shakes his head.

"No to the people here." He looks back over to me. "To the fans."

In a few days, Danny, Tom and Harry would start doing interviews to promote their fifth album and the tour. Dougie would be in the Priory for another twenty three days detoxing. People were going to notice and it was up to Dougie to figure out what he wanted to say. As if he didn't already have enough stress.

"Have you thought about it?" I ask. He nods.

"I've been thinking about it." He pauses. "I don't want them to know. I don't want anyone to think poorly of me or be disappointed."

"No one would be disappointed in you." I say, putting a hand on his back, but he continues to look out the window. "You're doing something to help yourself."

"I know but...people can be harsh." He says. "I just want the boys to tell people I have the flu. At least for now." I nod. It was risky. He would be gone about a month. I'm sure people will get skeptical. But that's Dougie's story to tell. "Are you upset with me?"

"Never, Darling."

********************

Dougie and I spent most of our time together talking or doing little activities the Priory would leave for patients, like puzzles.

I couldn't help but wonder, as disgusting as it was of me, how Dougie tried to kill himself. It's one thing to think about him trying to commit suicide, and another thing to think about him actually swallowing a bunch of pills, or something like that.

It haunted me. It was hard to eat, and harder to sleep.

When I got home, I was exhausted. I walked upstairs and collapsed on my bed.

I laid there for a while and almost fell asleep before deciding I should probably change out of my clothes that I've worn all day.

I got up and walked over to my closet, opening the large double doors and stepping inside. One half of it was still empty from when Dougie removed his things.

I quickly removed my shoes, hung up my coat and put on some comfier clothes, but when I turned around, the doors were closed.

Odd. I didn't remember closing them.

I walked up to them and pulled on both of the handles. They wouldn't budge.

I began to pull harder and harder until I was sure the doors would break. Still, they were stuck.

I sigh, letting go. I didn't know what I'd do. I didn't have my phone with me and there were no other ways out. I assumed Tom would come looking for me soon, but hopefully it would be before an untimely death.

I collapsed on the ground with my back against the double doors and closed my eyes. I was still determined to get some shut eye.

As I began to lose consciousness and drift to sleep, my senses began to come alive, ready to take the things around me and turn them into dreams. But then, I started to smell something.

Fire.

It wasn't just the smell of burning plastic or smoke. It smelled like hot, raging flames prepared to eat up anything in their path.

I didn't make anything to eat when I came home, so I couldn't have left any appliances on. And it definitely wasn't outside of the house. In fact, it smelled like it was right outside the door. I jumped up and pulled on the door again, but the metal door handles weren't hot.

Maybe it wasn't outside the closet.

I turned to see large flames right behind me. How did this start? How had this happen?

I didn't know what to do. I pulled on the door again, but the flames were moving closer and closer. I tried ramming myself into the door, but that didn't work either.

I lost hope. If I screamed, no one would hear me. I bundled myself into the smallest ball I could as the flames quickly grew closer and closer. My face began to feel hot. I was trapped. I started to feel the end of my foot burn, and the burning turned into hot pain.

And just as my whole body was about to catch fire, I woke up on my bed. Still in my coat and shoes, and unharmed by the nonexistent flames.//