This is just a filler chapter, so not much happens in it. I am putting a warning, though—there is mention of self-harm in this chapter, and it is a bit descriptive. So if you think it might trigger you, please do not read the seventh paragraph. Aside from that, the rest of the chapter should be fine to read. Hope you guys like it.
When we get to the apartment, I place my left over pizza into the refrigerator, knowing that if I don't eat it, one of the boys most likely will. Mrs. Knight is in the kitchen cooking dinner, not having known that we had gone out for pizza. I sigh as I walk towards my room, hoping that I can get out of eating dinner with everybody else.
"Hey, wanna go down to the pool?" Kendall pops his head into the room. I groan from where I'm lying on my bed and shake my head.
"Nah, I'm good. You go ahead. I'm kind of tired."
"Alright..." Kendall ducks out of the room. I roll over onto my side and stare out the window. It's a great day to be outdoors; sunny, cloudless, but I have no desire to go out. I have no desire to do anything, to be honest. I wasn't lying when I told Kendall that I was tired. I am tired, but that's nothing out of the ordinary. I'm always tired, whether it be physically or emotionally.
I have this feeling that the boys are starting to catch on and suspect that something is wrong with me. Even Katie seems to suspect something, but that doesn't surprise me—Katie is quite mature and observant for her age.
I wish I could vanish into thin air, that way no one would have to worry about me. I'm just a stupid, immature waste of space. I bet they'd be better off without me... Everyone would be better off without me.
I'm itching for a blade. Longing to feel the cold metal against my skin. It's not something I do often, but lately the idea hasn't left my mind. I use it as a way to punish myself, just like starving myself. I know neither of the two methods of self-harming will do me any good; I know it's only hurting me. But my mind... My mind's convinced itself that I need to do it—that I need to punish myself for my mistakes. Even if it's wrong, even if it harms me... Starving myself and slicing my wrists makes me feel like I'm in control. It probably makes me sound crazy, and maybe I am. But I'm so broken. So tired of everything.
I force myself to stand up and walk over to the door. I push it closed and let my back slide against it. I don't know how much longer I can do this; hold up the façade and act like everything is fine when it is nowhere near fine. There's a part of me that wishes that someone would realize what's wrong with me and help me out of this hole I have dug myself. But then there's another part of me—the more stubborn part—that wants the complete opposite. It's the part of me that fears what others will think, fears there's no way out of this, fears everything and nothing all at once.
"Stupid." I tug at my hair until it hurts so much that I can no longer take it. I dig my nails into my scalp and let my tears fall, no longer caring if anyone hears me. I feel so stupid for crying over nothing. That's the thing about depression—sometimes you don't need a reason to be depressed, it just hits you out of the blue and messes with you, until you can't take it anymore. It makes me feel so pathetic and selfish. I can't help but think that there are people out there, who are going through so much more pain than I am, and here I am, upset over stuff that doesn't matter. It's so selfish of me.
Sniffling, I get up and collapse on my bed. I grab my pillow and press it against my face, succeeding in muffling the scream that escapes my lips. The tears soak into the pillow, but I could honestly care less. My body is shaking so bad, not only from how hard I'm crying, but also from the fact that I have not slept properly in days. It should worry me—I know it's not normal and not a good sign, but it doesn't worry me in the slightest.
I've gotten to the point in which I no longer feel like myself. I feel lost. In a way, I feel like I am a shadow of my former self. I wish I knew how to find myself, but I don't. It's like I'm at a war with myself. No way out, there's no way out.
I don't know how much time I spend crying into my pillow, but eventually exhaustion takes over and I end up passing out. When I wake up, it's to the feeling of someone shaking my shoulder and calling my name.
"Carlos, wake up, dinner's ready."
I freeze before even opening my eyes. When I do, Logan is sitting beside me on the bed, his hand still on my shoulder. "Wha?" I groggily respond as I rub the sleep away from my eyes. Logan gives me a sympathetic smile and gets up.
"Dinner's ready. Mama Knight said to let you sleep in, but I figured I'd wake you up, since you didn't eat that much earlier," he says.
"I'm not hungry," I lie, even though I am, but the thing is, I don't want to eat. Logan frowns at my response and moves closer to the bed. He reaches for my forehead, but I smack his hand away. "I'm not sick, Logan. I'm just not hungry."
"But you're always hungry." That one sentence has the power to make my heart drop. I know he probably didn't mean it in a bad way, but the way my mind works, I can't help but take it in a whole other direction. "You never reject a meal. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine." It's probably the biggest lie I can say in this moment, but I'll do anything to have him not worry. "Can you just save me some and I'll eat it later?" I put on my best puppy dog eyes, hoping he'll give in.
"Yeah, sure. I'll leave it in the refrigerator. But you better eat later, okay?"
One look at his warning gaze and I know he's serious. "Okay. Thanks, Logie." I put on the biggest smile I can force upon my lips and watch him leave the room. As soon as he does, my lame attempt of a smile completely crumbles and I break down in tears. I'm so screwed, and I know it well.
Thoughts? Thank you for reading.
~ BigTimeRush-BTR :)
