The Protector

XX

Rolling around in my sheets, the blinding light of the rising sun works as a wake up call - not exactly the alarm I would have personally chosen, but it works all the same. The harsh wattage is enough to melt my retinas through my eyelids despite the duvet I've hidden beneath since the burning ball of gas decided to come into range. No matter how many times I wake up with the giant ball of flames hanging in the sky as a clock, I will forever hate mornings. I just can't handle waking up, but only getting about eight hours over the last five days probably isn't helping the matter.

Clawing myself out from under the covers, I tumble onto the velvety bench where I decide if getting up is worth it. I can't describe how badly I want to curl up in a ball and stay there, I can feel the heavenly sensations calling me. I think the lack of sleep is making me depressed. My insecurities have been amplifying each day to the point where I am sitting in the shower with tears running down my cheeks all the time. Each nightmare, each thought about Zayn, each memory of everything bad in my life is making things more and more difficult to push past.

Zayn's words are still playing in my mind, and although I know they aren't true, I can't help but believe them the tiniest bit. I guess that's why he chose those points. His kind takes our tiniest thoughts and feelings, twisting them into something that plagues our sanity until we lose hope in our lives.

Rubbing at my eyes, I enter a different dimension with swirling colours and stars instead of grungy walls. I would say it's like being high, but considering it didn't work the few times I tried, I don't really know what it feels like. I think everyone has those moments when it's just too good to stop.

Swinging my feet onto the cold floor, I trudge my way into the bathroom for a brisk shower before getting breakfast and heading to the library. Although today is a Friday and lessons are taking place, I've spoken to John about letting me research Demoniumes instead, and he happily agreed since I won't be paying much attention anyway. He said that I am more than welcome to just sit at the back and swallow down book after book.

Allowing the water to heat while I brush my teeth, I watch the mirror fog over, blurring my reflection. My face has distorted into a distant smudge, my eyes only managing to burn past the mist. It kind of represents my life right now - the more heated everything gets, the less of myself I can see. Metaphors are beautiful things, and it's rare I actually understand what they mean - I simply like how poetic they can be.

Showers are becoming less and less effective with time. I've been having about two a day - one to clean off, one to clear my head. They've become so regular that they don't relax me anymore, they mainly make me constantly wrinkled. I guess it does allow me time to breathe from all of the physical problems I have going on. When under the droplets, I'm only concerned with the mental complications.

I remember the times when my only worries were based on how much money I spent each night; now I have to worry about a large group of people, a murdering nut job, and preventing future damage. I know that realistically what I'm aiming for isn't reasonable for a girl of my age with such little life experience, but someone has to do it.

My foot stretches towards the bathmat, and I almost smack my head on the counter when I lose my grip. I don't think it would be the end of the world if I was unconscious for some of the day though I doubt Luke would be happy if it appeared as though I'm slacking off. His deep beliefs in education are far more intense than I thought. When I proposed taking the next few weeks off to deal with the Zayn situation, he shut me down and said that I need to keep a routine to remain sane. I haven't been sane in years.

Ten minutes later, I zone back into the real world after running on automatic since clambering off of the bathroom floor. Raising my hand to open the door to the library, I hesitate. The rusty clogs of my intelligence have started spinning for the day, bringing a fact to life. Sitting inside constantly with a book in my lap isn't who I am. I may love to read, but I am not a shut in.