antidote | h.s.

24 - drawn to the blood

tw: mental illness, body image, ED, self-harm, panic attacks

miss girl is going through it.

these topics are all pretty weighty, so if you are not comfortable with any of these, i would very much advise you to skip to the end. i will put a little trigger-less summary at the end with all of the important stuff you need to know to continue with the story without any confusion if you skip this chapter. my DMs are open on here and twitter (@fridgesinstyle), and i would love to be a listening ear if anyone needs to talk. i also give great advice ;). treat yourself with kindness. <3

ashton mackenzie

My mind doesn't know what to panic over first, but my body doesn't care. My limbs have been numb and my throat dry since before Harry left, not even waiting for my brain to catch up.

I don't know what happened.

We were having such a great morning. I was honestly surprised to wake up and find Harry on my couch, but I didn't mind. He was so cute cuddling with Nova, and I didn't want to ruin it, so I was as quiet as possible while I cleaned myself up from the night before.

And then he woke up.

And he had to bring up my sister.

I guess it's partially my fault for getting drunk and telling him more than I should have, but I wasn't thinking right. He picked up that I wasn't doing well so easily, and I was caught off guard, but I had enough sense to stop myself before I told him about my fucking trauma, so that's good at least.

He likes me right now, and I don't want anything to change that. Maybe if this ever starts to head south, I'll tell him about that part of me when there's nothing to lose. For now, it can stay a secret.

His questioning already started to send me down a spiral. I had managed to forget about Chloe's texts to an extent when I was hanging out with him last night, and him bringing it up was like a slap to the face with reality. On top of that, the way he chose to.

He said I should act like an adult. Like I shouldn't stoop to Chloe's level, and that honestly hurt more than anything I've had to endure in Chloe's eighteen years of life anyway.

Does he see me as a child? I'm not immature at all, and I'm most definitely not like Chloe.

On top of that, he kept acting like it was no big deal like Chloe was just some annoying sibling. I know he was trying to help, but it doesn't feel good to have your feelings dismissed like that, intentional or not.

I can't blame all of my problems on Chloe because that would be unfair, but she has a big part in them. She's the voice I hear in my head when I think about myself. Or rather, the laugh I hear in my head.

The one I hear now.

I've tried really hard not to let the texts and what they said get to me. And by tried, I mean I got drunk.

Not the best solution, but it worked until now.

I'm not going to panic. I'm not going to panic. I'm NOT going to panic.

I need to shower.

I feel like absolute shit from sleeping in my clothes and makeup from last night, and I need to wash my hair from the dried sweat, and hopefully my mind from whatever feeling is going on in there right now.

My feet carry me to the bathroom, and I keep my eyes closed until I hear the sound of my socks on tile and feel the cold flooring on the pads of my toes. I switch on the shower and strip myself of my clothes; my mind muddled with thoughts of Chloe and Mom and Parker and myself.