For some reason, disappearance wasn't happening today. I sat on the disgustingly wet tiles, their cold temperature extremely evident under my shaking palms. Trying to slow my breathing proved harder than I'd initially hoped. My lungs struggled to fill to their already small capacity and my chest began to ache immensely. My stomach shook harshly due to my uneven, rapid breaths. I wished I didn't care what people thought about me and didn't let myself get enveloped by the overwhelming anxiety. Strangely, at the same time, I was in love with the anxiety. It comforted me as the only thing I had ever known. My fear of change prevented me from letting go of fear completely.
I heard the heavy door shut and someone enter the room. The approached the stall I was in cautiously before peeking their head under the gap of the stall. I recognised those grey eyes, they belonged to someone in my tutor. Someone who just witnessed that entire scene. I reached for my headphones in order to block out the world but he instantly intercepted them.
"Talk to me," he said calmly.
"No." I whispered back definitively with previous knowledge to how this worked. Someone would try to help me, try to fix me but then would give up once they realised they couldn't help me if I didn't have the motivation to help myself. No one truly cared enough, but I couldn't blame them, they had lives and I was time consuming.
The memories that fled my brain at these thoughts were painful. Every-time I would make friends they would decide I was too much effort or too overwhelming. Or I'd have to push them away early for their own good. I always felt the need to warn people that they shouldn't become friends with me. I knew nothing would last so just like everyone who gave up on me, I gave up on being friends with anyone else.
Family wise no one knew what to do with me. My mum was extremely protective but was constantly trying to fix me and was disappointed when all the bases were covered with no solution the me, the problem. My dad barely had a clue about anything that ever happened to me and i liked it that way. A shallow, yet happy relationship avoided my tender emotions getting hurt. Then there's my brother. He's perfect. Independent, happy, useful, skinny, street smart. The child my parents wanted me to become as well. Everyone gradually lost any hope.
As I zoned back into reality I realised I was still sat on the gross bathroom floor, balling my eyes out with matching green eyes staring back at mine. He looked at me expectantly and I realised he'd said something.
"Pardon?" I asked quietly.
"Are you okay?"
"Um I-I'm...y-yeah"
"Yeah?"
I stared at him deeply, trying to keep my life together, but somehow his concerned eyes shattered my usually perfect and convincing facade. My eyes welled with tears again and my breathing picked up again, his frown deepening. Suddenly my head was being pulled into the chest of a boy I hadn't just met but didn't know the name of and in a way that was even more worrying than if I'd just met him.
The scent of his hoodie engulfed my entire body and the circles he made on my back caused me to quickly melt into the floor. My breathing slowed and the shaking of my hands quickly subsided.
I woke up in a room I didn't recognise. Confusion filled my face. Then he walked in.
