AN: I'm sorry that I haven't updated for a while, I've been busy writing many essays for school. There's not many chapters left now, I've actually nearly completed a multi-chapter story. (I feel stupidly proud of myself). Anyway, it should be done by mid December, maybe ealry if I get struck by inspiration. Thank-you for reading this, I appreciate it.
Chapter 15: Help
*Logan's POV*
We're actually getting help. Professional help, we have to go through physical therapy and shit but we're also getting mental health help as well. I guess the doctors found the cuts, the same way they found alcohol in Carlos' blood, and the drug abuse in Kendall's, and they clearly saw that James was anorexic. It's been a month we started the therapy, I guess things have changed, but I can't pinpoint how. Maybe it's too complicated, I just don't really know.
My mind keeps flashing back to the accident, the trial starts in three weeks and two days. Everyone says we were hit by a drunk driver, but I'm not too sure, we were, probably but I think there was something else as well. I kept going dizzy. I know I did, but I feel like I can't tell anybody. I feel so lost and alone, despite the help that we are receiving. Not every soul can be saved, can it? I don't think mine can, the thoughts are so consuming, like I'm drowning under the weight of them. It's weird, sometimes I wake up and realize the terrible reality, and I'm confined to a chair, restricted, as though I've been taken prisoner. It leaves me nowhere to run, so I just sit, I sit and be engulfed by my own thinking. One thought comes around way too often but yet it feels like it's not often enough.
It screams at me until I take notice, until I start to consider it, it's a dangerous thought, one with disastrous consequences. A thought that must be hidden from everyone, including me.
I think the others are slowly making progress; we currently have to try ourselves, because of our demands of not wanting the public to find out. But it's our last chance, if something happens, if one of us relapses in any way, we all go in. In to the hospital, that sounds better than the Looney bin, as many people call it. Words and sayings like that kind of hurt, it's stupid but it does. Forget that I said that but we are on the final straw.
Mama Knight is constantly watching us, constantly worried. I feel so sorry for her; she must blame herself, somewhat. We were all in her care and we all fucked up. Sorry, that was a bit extreme but you know it's true, she must feel guilty, over what happened, she didn't suspect it at all.
I know it's bad to think like this but everyone's most worried about James. It gets a bit annoying. Even Camille cares more about him than me. Okay, so Jo cares most about Kendall, but who's second? James. And don't tell anybody I said this, but I overheard Lucy saying that she wants to date James now, because and I quote she 'Loves broken boys.' I sat there thinking what a bitch, when I heard her, but she's still my friend, I guess.
No one will look me directly in the eyes anymore, they the chair and move away as quickly as possible, no one ever talks to me, apart from the guys, Mama Knight and Katie. Camille is avoiding me, I guess that we're over, no official word as yet but I think on this occasion that it's safe to presume.
I keep going off topic, my thoughts tend to run away with themselves and always go off the track. I wanted to talk about therapy, for the other's its okay, I think, unless they're lying again, but for me I don't know, it just doesn't seem worth the trouble. I don't see how talking to someone who, basically was a stranger, about everything can help. Oh and don't get me started on the pills, they are the most disgusting tasting thing I have ever had. It's supposed to keep away negative thoughts, it doesn't work. One of them is supposed to reduce anxiety but that doesn't work either.
I feel like it will only give me artificial happiness, I want real happiness. I think happiness is rare but there is three kinds; artificial, real and fantasy. Real is proper happiness, maybe it'll be clearer if I explained the other two. Artificial happiness is the kind of happiness achieved through drugs and similar stuff, man I'm bad at explaining. And fantasy happiness is where you live in a fantasy world, avoiding the horrors and miserableness of real life. People have snippets of it, like artists in all forms of art, writing, drawing, acting, and a whole lot more which I cannot currently think of.
Anyway, so we're getting help. We're getting 'better'. But I seriously doubt that it will last. I mean, everything changes, look at us, hockey players, then singers, now screw-ups-getting-better. Nothing stays the same forever.