dehydrated

haircut

I stare up at the smoke stained ceiling, it's horrendously damaged and apart of me wants to jump out of bed and grab some paint to fix it of course. But the other half tells me to stay where I am.

The silence is deafening on this part of town, my whimpers the only thing that I can hear as I've faded the background out. Even if I shut my eyes for a second all I can see staring back at me is you. Your wonderful face that I long to see just once. One last painful time.

I try to not think of how happy I was just two weeks ago, with you and everything at the press of a button, nearly. But now my life seems to be upside down. Haven't attended school in a week, not mustering myself to leave your bedroom.

I lay in your bed, well a bed that once was yours.

On Saturday morning, after the police station visit, Trisha dropped me here, as Niall had been in touch with your sisters and my mum. I couldn't resist going straight to your room, where I have been spending my last week in sheets that you used to occupy.

A part of me wishes you never moved into my house, because then being in this room I would feel closer to you. But I just can't face going back into the house where we lived together, happiest I've ever been.

So now, on this cold Sunday (I assume) with the curtains pulled shut, and covers resting over my body. I lay, with you in my heart. Niall has come to visit me, at least three times now. I've heard from Lottie he's visited more often but I have been asleep.

He cares, he actually cares about me and how I'm coping, which is truely very badly. But Zayn is also dealing shitty.

He's been drinking a lot more than ever and even leaving class to smoke every period, so I've heard from Niall. I haven't seen Zayn, but I don't understand how they are just waking up, going to school, studying then returning home, sleeping and starting again. As if nothing has even fucking happened.

Do they not feel like a part of their bodies have been ripped away?

Like a black hole has taken over?

My hair feels like a birds nest and my closes dirty, stinking of sweat and other bodily functions that I don't want to think about.

Lottie lectures me over my hygiene and how you would 'feel disappointed if you saw me like this' but you can't see me like this, you don't see me at all.

I only like sleeping because it's the only place I see you, in my dreams. You visit me and we run away and travel the world together like two people falling in love for the first and last time. In the end you fade away, slowly removing my grasp on my hand and you slowly disintegrate.

I call for you to stay and cry to make you feel bad but you smile and wave. Not even speaking as you eventually disappear. I wake up in a pool of sweat each morning thinking that you may leave me again but that can't happen.

You've already left.

I face the wall, away from the rest of the room, my claustrophobia screaming to turn away but I disobey it continuing to look. When I feel a gush of wind hit my head, my greasy locks fall into my eyes where I brush them away from my view of the crusty paint.

"For fuck sake Harry!" Mass regret on sharing my name, it was something you only knew and it had such meaning behind it when it fell from your lips. But now, it's just a stupid label of self.

"It's been a week, and I know that it's not a long time but you at least need to shower." She pulls the curtains apart, I feel her shadow over me. I hold back a hiss as the sun shines through onto the plain wall.

"It smells like piss and BO in here and that's not a good look." Lottie, the one who was there for you since her day 1, now lecturing me once again this week.