Falling ♡ Timothée Chalamet

25 - adventures

WARNING: this chapter may be triggering for some people. It discusses self harm so please be careful before reading.

Sweat stains the back of my neck, causing my hair to stick to my skin uncomfortably.

I don't realize I'm in my bedroom for a moment, but once the realization hits me I get out of bed not caring to check the time.

I don't care if it's three or four in the morning, if the sun still hasn't risen and if our neighbors are still fast asleep and tucked into their beds. I can't close my eyes again. Not after what I had just seen. It's all too much.

The last thing I remember is Timothée dropping me off at my apartment. He stayed for a while and caught up with Aaron but only for a few minutes before leaving me to do my homework and last minute studying.

I fell asleep with my books still open and my pencils scattered all over my bed. I dreamt of so many horrible things. I heard the sound of my mother begging my father to stop beating her with his fists, I heard the sound of her crying at the edge of my bed thinking I was fast asleep, I felt her kiss on my cheek and I could feel her warm breath on my ear as she whispered goodnight to me in her beautiful tender voice.

The memories were way too painful and even though I'm awake now I can still picture it all so vividly, I can feel her spirit following me as I walk into my small bathroom and I can sense her watching me as I stare at my own reflection.

The thought that she might be here right now, seeing me at my worst, makes me shiver with discomfort and humiliation.

'Fuck.' I cry out, and with that my tears stream down my face as if on cue. I'm shuddering, I'm shaking uncontrollably and hyperventilating trying my best to catch my breath, struggling to do so and all in all, failing miserably.

Watching myself break down in front of my mirror brought me the feeling of mere disgust and I couldn't handle it I couldn't take it anymore, I couldn't watch myself. You are strong. Timothée's words ring in my ears. You're the strongest person I know. Is what he had said to me earlier, but I should have told him how wrong he was.

I shouldn't have let him believe in my strength, I shouldn't have believed in it myself because I know I'm weak and broken and pathetic and I know that if anyone was in my position they wouldn't be crying on their bathroom floor and shuddering with every sob.

They'd be stronger than I am, braver than I am. They would be over it by now. Because it's in the past. But for some reason, all I see is my past, I can't seem to see the present or the future. I feel the walls closing in on me, it's hard to breathe.

My mother's face pops back into my head and I find myself pinching my arms as an attempt to make it go away, to make it stop. It's painful but it works for a moment, and the stinging feeling that shoots up my arm with every pinch makes me forget about her almost, but then the image of her is back again and I'm pinching harder, I'm biting my arm trying to wake up from this fucking nightmare.

'ELLA?!' A voice coming from behind the door causes me to snap out of it and now my heart is thumping, because my loud crying must have awoken my older brother. 'Ella open the door. What the fuck is going on in there?' I freak out and look down to find that I have left bite marks all over my arms, and one of the bite marks is bleeding because I dug my tooth in too deep.

I left red marks scattered around my skin from pinching myself too hard and I search for something to cover myself up with but all I see is a towel, so I instinctively wrap it around my shoulders so it covers any sort of redness on my skin.