I don't need to get away (3)

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I tend to handle things usually by myself and I can't ever seem to try and ask for help

I'm sitting here crying in my prom dress

I'd be the prom queen if crying was a contest

~~~~~~ Prom Dress by Mxmtoon~~~~~~~

A/N

Just to clarify, on the flashback in 2013(chapter 1) Davina was 11, she went to her father's office and say three boys a little older than her (2-4 years older) so the men shouting weren't Niall and Louis lol.

I imagine Zayn with the little mullet and small piece hanging on hid forehead but be free to imagine any hair style (same goes for all the characters)

Davina's POV

My eyes shoot open, sweat coaxing my forehead as tears streamed down my damp cheeks. I throw the covers off my body trying to desperately catch my breath. Fuck where is my inhaler.

I rummage through my bedside table's drawers looking for the small device as my lungs painfully burned from lack of oxygen, my watery eyes making it hard for me to see anything at all. It took me a while but I finally found it, feeling the artificial air opening my airways as I could finally breathe again.

As soon as I regained my breath, I run towards the bathroom and open the tap, splashing cold water against my face so I could calm myself down a bit. I open up the top cabinet and reach for my two pills, swallowing them with water from the sink.

I hated it so fucking much.

My head pounded and the ringing in my ears prominent from another long night studying for my exams. Something yesterday must have triggered me though, and when I wake up from night terrors like this, the vivid images will stay in my mind all day and prohibit me from focusing.

My eyelids were still heavy from how abruptly I woke up, my muscles ached from gym class yesterday and also the fact I slept over a pile of books, some things never change. I drag myself to the wooden dress that sits in front of my window, blindly reaching for my phone and dialling a number I have memorized by now.

He thankfully picks up after the third ring. "G'morning" The sleepy voice mumbles from the other side of the line. I glance over at the wall clock to see it's only seven-thirty, I'm surprised he picked up this early but I have a feeling I woke him up.

"Hey Z," I also yawn, feeling tired myself. "Are you driving me today? I had that dream again and just wanted to talk." I ask, hoping he won't mind me asking this in such short notice. The line goes dead for a few seconds and I wonder if he got annoyed and hung up. I check and the call was still on. "Zayn?"

"Yeah Hi. Sorry Love, yeah I'll drive you," He answers half-awake, sounding like my voice startled him.

He always had a funny way of saying things like 'love' because of his thick accent and I almost make fun of him for it but it comes from a place of love. I smile lightly to myself and reply softly, "Thanks, see you in an hour or so." then hang up the call.

I turn slightly around to see my reflection in the wall-length mirror and realize I look completely disgusting. Fuck sake. I try to fix it by applying a little mascara and a think layer of lipgloss, I even tried eyeliner but failed miserably so I had to take it off. After that, I throw my hair up in a ponytail and put on my uniform.

I wore a white button-up shirt with a grey blazer over it. The red plaid skirt went down to my thighs and matched the tie we all had to wear. Thankfully I was allowed to choose my shoes, so I decide to wear my combat boots. My legs were almost all covered because of the knee-high socks so I wouldn't have to deal with any commentary coming from my parents.

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