Reaction || Malum ||

42

Calum's POV

It's fairly difficult to pinpoint any one thing that triggers me on any given day. The thoughts in my mind are so crystal clear at one point then only a second later they are black as coal. Guilt and anger taints my brain making things go dark all around me without warning. I suppose the dreams of my family I've been having don't help much. Their faces are full of joy and the warmth of the way everything used to be fills my unconscious state. Things were precisely the way they were just days before the accident, but only in my dreams. Only in my dreams do I get to hear the beautiful sound of my dad's laugh or feel the warmth that my mum's arms always held. Only in my dreams are things how they should've been.

For the second morning in a row I woke up sweating and panting to find an empty bed. Michael has had to be at work early in the mornings the past two mornings, leaving me to fight the urges alone. The only time I feel safe from my own mind is when Michael is around. It sickens me to know that how well I control my own self has become so dependent on him. I never wanted to be a dependent person. What if he gives up on me? Then what? I'm left to fight my pathetic life all alone like I was before. I'm so ridiculous. I'm even more ridiculous to have thought that all my problems had magically been solved with a little love from someone so much better than I. I'm not easily cured. Someone as mangled and broken like me it not simply stitched back together. All my bad thoughts have been boiling just below the surface. Growing and festering in their disgusting nature until ultimately they appeared again like they have a million times.

Hopefully I can find an anchor in the feeling that Michael's bed holds. For quite some time now I've been sleeping in Michael's bed just for the surrounding comfort in provides me. Theres no way I'd ever be able to sleep alone after all this time. His sheets were like silk under my skin and when I laid on his side of the bed, I inhaled the scent he had left behind. I cocooned myself ever further into the bed only to find no salvation. I could practically feel the burning in my wrists, begging to be opened with my blade. It had been so long, maybe I've forgotten the feeling and need to revisit it.

The second I pull the covers from my body to stand from the bed, I know its a bad idea. Michael will be so disappointed in me if I make even the slightest nick in my skin. He's always kissing my scars and I can tell he fears a relapse just as much as I do. And I do. Everyday the thought of letting Michael down battles with my own selfish thoughts. Someone is bound to win sooner or later. For the sake of Michael, I hope he understands.

Before I really grasp what I'm doing, my bottle of pills are in my hand and I'm popping off the lid. The positive voice in my head is screaming no but I have to if I want these thoughts to stop. Slowly, with shaking hands I dump a few blue pills into the palm of my hand. Two should do for now. I don't want to go overboard but at the same time I want to acheive the perfect level of numbness. The Goldy Locks effect, not too hot not too cold. I'm not necessarily to the point I want to die but I sure as hell don't want to feel today. There is a possiblilty I do want to see tomorrow. The easy things about pills are that the results are almost invisible. Yeah sure I may act a little sedated but that sure beats bleeding out on the bathroom floor.

I hate feeling like this. Caught between fighting and surrendering. Constantly weighing up the pros and cons of living or dying, even on my best days. I think thats what sickens me most, the idea that I'm never really fine. Something so demented and dark has filtered out my mind until ultimately, everything is negative. I could be having the best day ever but something in the back of my mind begs me to quit, to give up. My happiness is not permanent. It merely comes to visit then disappears with the first sight of a storm within me. But there has to be a cure. Besides the numerous prescriptions and endless hours of therapy, there has to be a cure. This can't be where it stops.