Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part thirty-eight

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Magnolia

— -

My feet patterned in the sand, stretched so the grains under them attacked. Seafoam was strong amongst the air, salt invading the delicate senses of my nose. My antidote- tucking my feet so close to my body it almost hurt- was lacking in comfort. Though the floundering handsome view made up for it. Green tinted skies, an adversity of cloud covering that hid the sun away.

It was one of those days- even the sun didn't dare show it's face to the world. Hiding away in such a wallow.

If it weren't for my schedule I'd have stayed in my covers all day, gaze at the posters on my wall as if I don't look at them every morning when I wake up and night when I sleep. Or watch dirty dancing an absurd amount of times, scream at Johnny for being such a twat. More profoundly I wandered my way to a beach, through trees a plenty.

I realize how weird and unhealthy a habit like this was, but in my state of mind getting murdered or kidnapped was the least of my worries. I was vastly away in deep ponder. And the drowning waters drew me into it further, as if they sponsored my mental breaks.

My wonder led me here and now it was gonna support the next four hours on the ice. I already knew I'd be out if it, that Lei would be hollering at me to focus. Hinting at a relapse I might've had- even though it's seriously fucked up whenever I'm slightly off her and my parents act like I've snorted a whole bottle of adderall. Like shit, if I was high I wouldn't be low energy- make it make sense. I figure it's just a sick way for them to stab at me, a reminder of the awful things I did when I was using. I suppose none of them realize how messed up that is- they don't understand I ridicule myself every waking moment- the only reason I got better is because I wanted to.

After the rain started sprinkling on my skin I knew it was time to leave, my body ventured back to my parents house. I slugged up the stairs, tossing my gym bag over my shoulder in a haze. The clouds didn't let up, no. The sky remained green and moping, a correlation to my sulking mind. Sundays were shit ninety percent of the time- and the fact I was sorely hungover just added to the shitstorm.

-- -

The surrounding was quiet, campus normally filled to the brim with athletes was bare. Reckon it was a Sunday, meaning everyone was home and resting- you know like I should've been. Even my coach was home, and I was stuck with practice.

I sigh at the lucidness of my mind, lugging my way over to the benches to sit down. With the dead silence my head flicks up when I hear chatter, a voice that sounded familiar to my ears. I look to see Niall talking with the receptionist. What on earth was he doing here?

I pitter over to him, leaving my stuff behind on my seat. "Niall?" I announce with a dry smile. "Tiny!" He exclaims energetically, his tired eyes lighting up. Even with his overbearing excitement I clearly picked out the fact he was struggling the will to stay awake.

"What're you doing here?" I poke, solely hoping maybe it was because he had to drop Harry off. That I might get to see him and finally understand the accounts of last night. My heart was already aching from it and I couldn't keep that going on for much longer.

"H needed me to pick up his gym bag, I dunno- things you skaters need." He brushes off, gesturing to the receptionist and then following me to where the locker room was.

"Why didn't he just come himself?" I inquire, biting my lip, Niall shrugs his shoulder inconvincingly. Trailing beside me as we walk further down the hall. I notice his sluggishness, wondering if I looked as trashed as he did. Surely considering I drank mounds more than him.

"He's passed out, no way he'll be getting out of bed today— or Monday for that matter..." Niall scoffs, rolling his eyes at his own words. With his bleakness I get nosy, and ten times more worried than I was beforehand. My mind again spiraling with a million questions- I desperately needed the answers too.

I make my confusion known to him, "What do you mean he won't be getting out of bed. What's wrong- did he make it home safe?"

He starts to talk, breathing between words as if it took a load off of him to say. "Yeah, he just came back to the cabin— made it there after I had— even though I left later because I was with Indie, so I assume he went somewhere else beforehand." With Nialls rambles my unsettlement grew, there had to be a reason for this. And most frighteningly I was most likely me.

"But he slouched into the kitchen and took out the bottle of gin from the top of our fridge. Went to town, got mega pissed. Like black-out kinda drunk, he passed out at the breakfast bar. He's not a drinker either, it was out of character." My throat begins to well and even I can't stop it, closing off my air supply. That resourcing feeling of a hand tightening its grip around the area of my neck.

"He didn't say anything to you?" I cough out, almost gasping for breath.

"No, didn't say a peep the whole night, just zoned out I guess." The part that freaked me out the most was the fact it seemed to bug Niall. That the person who's known him since he was little thought his behavior was strange. Leading me deeper into a rabbit hole of distilled panic, under the surface my body flying red flag alerts all around. Seriously something had to be up.

"About me?" I peeped timidly, keeping my urge to ball at a minimum. I didn't need this- not right now.

"Not that... I know of." I can feel the tears welling in my eye and I hadn't a clue why. Why I wanted to cry an ocean, and in front of Niall. My body screaming from the inside, as it began to leak out I tried to choke it back. Sucking in all the air my lungs can take. "Hm," I hum, distracting from that fact I was falling apart at the seams. With the drama including Harry centerfold my walls were crashing down in front of me.

I was having a panic attack.

"Uh, just tell him... to call me— yeah?" I rush away before he gets the chance to respond.

Smacking through the doors, at a thunderous pace. My limbs yelling into a defined frenzy. I bolt up the stairs. Making it to the roof, feet sprinting until I'm at the edge looking over at the mountain. Grasping onto the railing for dear life. My breath hitches, heart pumping in my ears.

But at a horribly rough pace, overload for my destroyed state of mind. The voice in my head spewing dangerous thoughts, I didn't have to feel this way... not under the influence. I could wipe it all away— within an instant— with it my sobriety.

No.

I can't do that to myself... be a coward- take the easy way out. I was going to feel each and every strained breath that came from me, I was going to feel my heart strings being played like a cello.

My sniff the searing tears back, knives gliding up the back of my throat with inconsistent breaths. I manage to calm myself out of it, knowing it surely would creep back anytime soon due to the fact I forced it away. I ignored that terrifying fact, choking it down to my subconscious that was at war.

I decided to invert from my coaches wishes, instead of skating I packed my shit up and went back to my car.

I fling open my trunk, stopping in my tracks when I see a neon yellow sign taking up the majority of the space. I hadn't opened it since before Harry drove it back- and there it stood. The one that we stole that night, same- yet completely different- it had personality now. Drawings scattered it, bright pastel colors flourishing off the metal surface. A picture of tall Oregon trees, landscaping stunningly, a pack of Marlboro's and sunglasses laying in the grass beneath the deer icon. A Magnolia tree stood out amongst the pines- beaming with pink flowers. It stopped my breathing, halting all my sense at once. My heart swells, the beautiful setting invading my lonesome eyes. He did this before we fought.. It was sitting in my car this whole time, and I didn't even know.

'Something for my flower to ponder on -H'

My flower.