If I Stay✔️

59

A/N: Did someone write 9000 words for her favourite people and actually update on time?Yes, yes she did. Feel free to leave lots of comments to show how much you appreciate that fact xxx

A C E

My arm really fucking hurt.

Peeking one eye out from underneath the fluffy pillow that I'd been trying to suffocate myself with, hoping it would put an end to the suffering this day will no doubt bring. I ensured the blinds were shut before removing the pillow from my face completely, hoping the darkness of my bedroom would somehow ease the never ending throb in my temples.

It didn't.

My head throbbed worse with each movement I made, making me wish my attempts of suffocation hadn't been in vain. And to top it all off, my arm fucking ached; an unbelievable itch arising from my elbow to my wrist, one that I couldn't reach due to the uncomfortable cast.

I knew then that this day would no doubt go to shit. My eyes hadn't even been open for a full minute and I was already regretting my whole existence.

Deciding that changing my clothes was a good idea, because, one: I was very uncomfortable in my ripped clothing that reeked of smoke. And two, it would give me a little more time before I'd have to leave the sanctuary that is my bedroom.

Pulling on some black sweatpants and a matching hooded sweatshirt, I leaned against my closet door and closed my eyes. Inhaling and then exhaling a trembling breath, repeating the action over and over again to the point that I could feel the uneven rhythm of my pulse as it hammered against my skin. My mind truly felt like it was in tatters as I mentally prepared myself for what's to come: facing them.

Kill me now.

I had no idea how my siblings were going to react to me this morning, specifically Zac and Grey. Last night was still a little hazy in my mind, the alcohol that lingering in my system, mixed with the pain relief the doctors administered provided me a sort of escape from reality.

I knew for a fact that Zac was either angry or disappointed in me for driving drunk, heck, maybe he'd be both. I'm both angry and disappointed in myself for being so stupid. It makes sense for him to feel that way too.

There's no excuse for my recklessness, I could've killed myself, or worse, I could've killed or seriously hurt someone else, all because I'd been too weak to deal with my own fucked up emotions in a responsible way.

After a short four minutes of working myself into a near panic attack, I decided I'd hidden long enough.

Time to face the music.

Opening my bedroom door, I ignored the overwhelming urge to turn back around and barricade myself in my room. Instead, I began the short journey down the hallway to the stair case, ensuring my steps were painfully slow to give myself just a little more time before shit hit the roof.

***

My already slowed steps faltered as I reached the dining room. As my eyes locked to my two eldest brothers, an unbearable amount of pressure wrapped itself around my throat, clutching my skin so tightly that I was afraid I might pass out.

I hoovered at the door way, gulping softly as I silently watched them whispering between themselves.

Zac was sat at the head of the table, like every morning he had his usual mug of steaming hot coffee in his hands. His hair was messy, dishevelled as if he'd ran his hands through it one too many times.  His eyes were rimmed with dark circles as if he hadn't had a wink of sleep, bright red lining his waterline. Guilt swelled in my stomach when I realised I'd been the cause of his fatigue.