Chapter 68

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TW: mentions of self-harm (graphic)


Violet.

I laid in bed, trying heavily to ignore the extreme itch on my wrist. It was almost begging for it, begging for attention.

Begging for nails, begging for skin to break.

I bit my lip and screwed my eyes shut, trying to think of anything else as I stared at the blank, light grey wall of the bedroom I had been sleeping at all week.

I didn't know how much time had passed since Harry had drunkenly come in here.

He touched me. Even though I screamed for him not to. He still did.

I mindlessly stared at the wall, for hours. I didn't even know. I only got up to pee a few times, ignoring my reflection in the mirror before eventually draping a large towel over it to hide it.

Repulsive.

Knocks on the door startled me, and I jolted up beneath the sheets as I let out a shaky breath. The door was locked, and I sat on the bed tensely to see who it was.

"Yes?" I called out with a shrill voice, praying it wasn't Harry.

"Vi? It's El." Eleanor's voice was soft and gentle, and I sighed before getting up to my feet and opening my door on a crack.

"Hi." I tried to force a smile. Eleanor looked impeccable, a red dress complimented by her bright red lipstick and her hair done to perfection. She frowned when she saw my appearance. "Are you not dressed yet?"

"Dressed f- oh my God, is it Sunday evening?" I stammered with wide eyes, "I'm sorry, my phone died... well, a while ago. I think."

"Well, yes, it's Sunday evening. The meeting should begin in like thirty minutes. Do you... Are you okay?" She asked with worry and I quickly scrambled my brain together as I nodded, not fooling her.

"Yes, I'm... I'll just wear the black dress again." I spoke, but Eleanor had forced her way into my room and walked over to the closet.

"Why don't you wear this green one? We bought it that one time and you've never worn it. You looked so good in it!" She sounded excited, holding up the dark green dress that I loved at one point. It was a silk mini dress with thin straps, and the sight of it alone made my stomach turn.

I shook my head slowly. "I feel comfy in the black one."

"Okay." She breathed, putting the dress back, "Do you need me to do your hair?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm not doing anything special. I'm just going to get dressed and put some make-up on. How's Ian?" I changed the subject as I grabbed the black dress and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it.

I hadn't been allowed to call Ian in the crisis centre. He was only allowed contact with direct family, which was Louis.

Eleanor sat down on the bed and talked to me through the wooden barrier of the door. "He's good. He's been at the crisis centre for like a week now, and physically he's fine. They keep monitoring his heart, but he's almost fully through the effects from the overdose. He's heartbroken though by that boy."

"Timothy." I nodded as I slipped out of my comfortable clothes and put the dress on. It was a loose, long sleeved dress that hid as much as it could. Only my legs were bare, but right now that was the only part of my body I didn't really have an issue with.

"Mhm, Timothy."

Ian had told Eleanor and Louis that he had feelings for a boy, and that that boy had manipulated him and had given him drugs. Ian had been naïve and easily persuaded by Timothy, who had given him pills laced with whatever else.

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