Christian Turners' Upward Fall (BXB)

Happy tears

It had been a few days and I haven't left my apartment once. I had over 100 text messages from several different people at school. Although the only ones I had the energy to check were the few worried messages I received from Samuel.

It wasn't really that Claire cheated on me that warranted this depressive episode but it was more the fact that simply a person had betrayed my trust. It could've been anyone that I knew that would affect me this way.

It was simply the fact I was to insecure and fragile to handle a betrayal from anyone, not just Claire.

Insecure and fragile. It was true but that didn't make the words affect my pride any less.

I felt no motivation to eat. Or to shower. I didn't even have the energy to get dressed or brush my teeth.

I was disgusting, practically bathing in my own filth. God I was pathetic. It was hard to even muster a smile. Any time I would try to feel a little happiness I would break down, feeling the exact opposite of happiness.

I didn't even have the energy to make it to bed. I was slumped on the ground in my hallway leaning against the wall.

My phone buzzed a few more times and I just stared at it, to unmotivated to pick it up.

This was awful. These depressive episodes didn't happen super often but they began to occur every few months naturally after Coreys death.

My phone buzzed again but this time it was a phone call. I ignored it.

It felt as if I were drowning. The darkness of my apartment surrounded me. I felt tears swell in my eyes as a crushing pain bloomed inside my chest. I looked up at my ceiling in surrender.

God why can't these feelings just go away.

What the fuck is wrong with me.

Simply questioning what was "wrong" with me brought me over the edge. The tears spilled over my eyelids and I took a shaky breath.

My breathing felt uncontrolled and I couldn't seem to breath in calm breaths.

I bit my lip in the midst of frustration.

A strangled sob left my lips as I began to cry harder. I no longer knew why I was crying, I just was. And all I knew was I felt awful.

—

It had been another 2 days and I hadn't had any food or water in a few days. My stomach felt as if it were ripping me apart from the inside, and I felt to physically weak to even stand to get something to eat.

I was still on the ground in my hallway.

Time seemed to pass without my knowledge. I just sat and cried, then suddenly a whole day slips away. It was scary to think my own sadness was so overwhelming time was no longer a concept in my mind.

My apartment was dark because the curtains are drawn so I'm not really sure whether it's day or night right now.

I felt to exhausted to cry anymore. I needed someone to help me. I felt incredibly alone and for the first time in a few days I felt the urge to reach out for my phone to call someone.

Should I call Timothy? James? Maybe even Alaric?

Before I could even reach for my phone to actually decide my vision began to blur.

What the fuck is going on? My arm dropped back down beside me and my eyes closed without much reluctance.

Then everything was black.

—

"God what the hell happened to you" the panicked voice was muffled by the intense ringing in my ears but I was sure I wasn't imagining it.

"You should have answered your phone. Hey can you hear me? Chris?" The voice seemed more worried the more it talked.

The voice was familiar and soft. The voice of someone who seemed to care more than necessary.

"Get up, you need food" it demands. I just sit with my eyes closed peacefully as the voice sinks into my ears. It's soft like a song, comforting like a mother singing her crying child back to dreamland.

"Please open your eyes" it says this time even softer. It sounds vulnerable like I had been so many times before.

I can't speak, my throat is rough like a narrow chamber filled with knifes of spite.

"I'm begging you"

I force my overwhelmingly dry eyes into narrow slits. Everything is blurry and moving. The room dancing around me like the northern lights.

My eyes settle on the figure crouched before me.

It's Sam. A small smile cracks itself on my lips.

"How'd you break in" I say with a small chuckle. My voice was hoarse and my throat seared with pain from speaking.

A barely there smile made its way to his soft lips.

"Let's get you some water" he tells me.

"Not just some, I needs gallons of it" I whisper back.

"When did you last have some water?" He asked as his brows dipped down closer to his eyes.

"What day is it?" I ask him confused.

"Monday" he says. Fear creeps into my soul. What the fuck is wrong with me. Monday?

"Wednesday" I tell him. He pales and suddenly he's dashing into the kitchen. He comes back with ice and bring a piece of ice to my lips. His fingers dangerously close to my lips.

"Suck on this" he says softly.

"I'd rather suck on you" I say as a soft chuckle makes its way past my lips at my own teasing. He begins to blush furiously.

"Shut up" he grumbles. "Why can't I have water?" I ask as I take the ice from his fingertips.

"If you suddenly start to gulp a bunch of water after so long you're body with totally flip out" he explains. I just nod not questioning it.

I finish the ice cub and he finally brings me a glass of water.

"Small sips" he says worriedly as he watches my bring it up to my lips. He looks away as his cheeks heat up.

What was that about?

"Im gonna get some food for you okay?" He days before getting up and making his way to my kitchen.

He sure likes to take charge rather quickly. I continue to drink the water slowly. My throat rejoices at the cold coating, and my insides seem to sing as the water makes contact.

Samuel comes back over to me with some pudding in a bowl.

"Why not something more filling" I ask. He just laughs softly as he stirs the pudding in the bowl.

"We'll work up to solids" he tells me.

"I feel like a child" I whisper to him. He just smiles at me when I finally glance at him.

"You aren't a child. You're in pain and you reacted and that's okay. You're not a child and you're not pathetic nor should you feel ashamed okay?" His voice holds so much authority and is stern yet wonderfully caring.

"Thank you" I say. And of course I begin to cry again.

But this time it's different.

These are happy tears.