wrong number- dreamwastaken

thirty- three

i groan as i wake up to phone calls. i rub my eyes and look over at my phone. as the ringing ends, i look at all the missed calls i have, all from clay. i think about answering a call, but i can't. i turn my phone on do not disturb and go into my emails. nothing about the job yet.

i fall back onto my bed and look at the ceiling. i inspect every small dint in the roof, every speck of paint, how rough it is. i roll onto my side and grab my pillow, pressing it to my chest and cuddling it.

eventually i fall back into sleep. but not for long. there is something hitting my window and people banging at my door.

"for fuck sake can they just leave me be." i whisper to myself. i sit up in bed and grab my phone. i open up twitter and scroll through some tweets i missed throughout the night.

as the banging continues i gumpily stomp downstairs and look out the peephole. clay and nick. i roll my eyes and turn around, heading back up to my room. i make the decision to let them continue banging until they give up, rather then yelling at them to stop.

i don't get why they are already at my door, it's only been 1 night of me not talking to them, thats not unusual? maybe one of them saw me at the graveyard.

i pull out my phone and go to me and clay's messages, seeing if he messaged me anything i should know.

"hey i uhm, didn't mean to spy or anything, but u seemed off yesterday, and so i wanted to make sure u were okay, and i followed you to the graveyard, and u didn't see me, but i could hear what u were saying, and now im at ur door and i need you to open it please." i read from the message.

HE SPIED ON ME? bro no fucking way. i try to remember what i said, FUCK I TALKED ABOUT HIM, nothing else bad, right? oh shit.

i don't know what to do. if i'm cutting them out, i can't message him. what if i just text him to leave me be and then that's where it ends?

i message him back, 'i am fine and i need you to leave. stop knocking on my door and throwing pebbles at my windows.' i shut off my phone and move to my floor. i search for my sketchbook, the sketchbook i haven't touched in months. then my phone pings, since i turned off do not disturb in hope he would stop spamming me.

'please just open the door' he texted. i think about what to say, something that will get him to actually leave. for his own sake.

i decide to leave him on read, trying to hint that i'm NOT opening the door. i continue looking for my sketchbook, until i find it shoved under my bed. i reach for it and just grab it. i pull it out and sit up at my desk. i move everything out of the way and open my book.

i look through all my drawings, not being good because i was never much of an artist. as i look through my drawings, my phone kept pinging with messages. non stop. i roll my eyes and grab my phone.

-

alex please stop
this isn't right
you aren't thinking straight please
communicate with us
or ill even go get drista if you want to talk to her
just talk to one of us
we don't want you to do this
we wanna keep seeing you
we are here for you, your not dragging us down
we have been a lot happier when you are around
this isn't good for any of us
please alex
open the door
alex
please
talk to us
ill go get drista if u want please
ill drag her out of school for u
please open the door
we arent leaving until u open it.
nick might, but im not
ill camp here if that is what it takes
please let us in
lEt mE iN pLeAse - chale damelio
please open the door

-

i read through each message, them continuing. he isnt going to leave. i have places to go. i storm downstairs and decide to give him one last warning.

i rip open the door. "leave. now." i sternly say. clay looks shocked, either because i opened the door, or, something else.

"alex, please talk to me. i d-"

"no. please leave. now. trust me on this, i need you to go." i cut him off, keeping eye contact. his eyes well with tears and i nearly break at the sight of it. but i dont. "leave."

i shut the door and lock it, turning around and going back upstairs. he keeps knocking, getting more rapid each knock.