Rejects // Punk Luke Hemmings

>Chapter Eight<

It's just the freak. Don't worry. She doesn't have feelings, sneered the voice in my head as I sat alone in my room. She has no friends. She's not worth anyone's time.

Maybe I wasn't. Did Michael care about me? Or did he just pity me? Did Luke really mean all of those things he said to me? Or could he just not bear to see a girl be such a loner? Did Calum really want to help me? Or was he just sick of hearing Kelsey's voice?

All of these thoughts ran through my mind as I stared at the white sheet of paper before me. The pencil in my hand bounced slightly as I pondered what to draw.

She's just a freak. A freak. Freak. She's nobody. Not worth a thought, whispered the voice. I set the tip of the pencil on the paper, drawing slowly and heavily. The picture morphed into the beautiful face of a monster, shrouded in mystery and fear. The dark shading and detail brought the flawless creature to life and it seemed to jump from the picture into my mind, terrorizing my thoughts.

The words had gotten to me, and I couldn't handle what I had been able to before. I didn't know what to do or where to go.

If you call Michael he won't care. If you call Luke he'll laugh. If you try to tell someone else, they'll run away in fear! Laughed the monster that now ran through my head.

Or maybe the monster was always there. Maybe now I'd just given it a form. A life. Maybe I'd unleashed the terror on myself.

I stumbled out of my room, blinded by the tears now streaming down my face. My mom had told me to take the day off from school, so I was home alone. Maybe I should have just gone to school.

I tripped and tumbled down the stairs, crashing to the ground. I stayed there, the terror and anger and panic gathering in pools beneath my eyes, given substance in the tears dripping onto the hardwood.

No one will come now. No one will care! The monster in my mind howled with laughter as I got up, limping to the kitchen. I had been given a prescription for antidepressant medication a year or two ago. I'd kept it in case of a panic attack, such as the one I was having.

I grabbed the bottle, shaking out several small, white tablets. They could only make this better. The horrors in my brain could not possibly get worse.

Throwing them in my mouth, I gulped down water from the faucet and squeeze my eyes shut. The monsters only seemed to grow, fueled by my last attempt to vanquish them. I screamed, running blindly to the front door.

I yanked it open, flinging myself down the two steps in front of the house, then falling down hard on the grass. The freshly cut blades poked roughly into my skin, feeling like a million needles. I cried into the ground, my hands tangling themselves in my hair.

I was so far gone then that I only vaguely remember what happened next. I remember a strong pair of arms restraining me, a loud siren wailing in the background, and a concerned, unfamiliar face watching me carefully.

Then it all went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Thank you so much. I don't know what happened to her, but I can't express how grateful I am that you helped her," murmured a soft voice from what seemed like miles away.

"I only did what I hope others would do for me. I've been in her shoes, believe it or not. I know exactly how she must have felt, and I tried anything I could," replied another, slightly lower voice. A man, if I heard correctly.

My heart raced as I tried to open my eyes, slowly becoming aware of my surroundings. I lay on an uncomfortable bed, surrounded by the beeping of monitors and the smell of medicine and antiseptic. That meant one thing.

I was in the hospital.

My eyes flew open at that point. I gasped at the shocking light that blinded me for a few moments. "What's happening?! Where am I?!" I asked hurriedly, the words sounding slightly muffled.

"Calm down, sweetheart. You're alright," came my mother's voice. She rushed over and took my hand, trying to comfort me.

"What happened, mom?" I asked in a tiny voice.

"You're alright," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I promise you're okay, baby. I'm so sorry."

"Tell me what happened, mom!" I almost yelled. I just needed to know what was going on and why I was lying in the hospital. Why I was hooked up to about a billion wires.

"You had a panic attack if I'm not mistaken," said the man from a few moments ago. He was far younger looking than I'd expected, with wavy hair that was caramel-brown and reached his shoulders, as well as dimpled cheeks. He wore a black tank, exposing his muscular arms, a pair of black ripped jeans, and Converse. He looked only a year or two older than me and had bracelets covering his wrists. I had a guess why he wore so many.

"Who are you?" I asked nervously.

"Honey, this is Ashton. He helped you while you were having the attack," mom explained. A tear slipped out and she quickly brushed it away. She hated crying in front of me. "He's very kind and he says he's been in the same position as you before. That's why he helped."

"Yeah. I heard that..." I murmured, watching Ashton as he approached. He smiled sadly at me, taking my other hand a bit awkwardly.

"You'll be alright. I promise," he nodded to me. "It'll get better."

"I'm not really depressed anymore. I mean, I used to be, but now it's just because of the kids at school. They were harassing me because I only talk to one person." I looked down at my legs that were stretched out in front of me.

"Wait, what are you talking about Kar? Why didn't you tell me," mom asked, stunned.

"Because I didn't want to worry you, mom! I felt like you had enough on your plate without worrying about my school life too."

"Well, I could try to help in any way I can," Ashton offered.

"Thanks. It would be kinda nice to have someone to talk to." I nodded.

"I gave your mom my number in case you ever need anything. I'm usually around, so I'll pick up," he smiled again, running a hand over his stubbly chin.

I nodded, closing my eyes. "I'm sorry mom," I whispered, squeezing her hand.

"I'm just glad you're alright baby. I was so worried that you'd done something... horrible. But you're alright and that's all that matters," she pressed my hand to her lips, and I felt a warm tear plop down on my skin. She sniffed and reached over, brushing the hair from my face.

"Get some rest sweetheart. You look exhausted." She stood, kissed my forehead, then she and Ashton left. The silence was broken only by the steady beeping of the monitors and the breath in and out of my lungs.

[Edited]