I Can't Sleep

We Meet Again

James' POV:

Today was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.

I'm not sure whether or not I should consider it a success or a...well I don't know what else.

I freaked out multiple times, but I also gained two boyfriends.

Are we boyfriends?

Well, we're just going on a date so I guess we're not yet technically.

Who would want to be your boyfriend?

That voice in my head sneers.

It's my voice, but it's not.

It's more cruel. Hateful. Honest.

I scoff aloud at myself.

"Shut up." I mutter, almost inaudibly.

"James?" A voice whispers from my right.

My body freezes and I stay silent.

"James are you awake?" The quiet voice of Remus cuts through the dark.

I open my mouth to speak but no words come out.

My chest tightens and my throat closes off.

I can barely even breathe.

Soon enough Remus adjusts back into his bed and I hear his breathing even out.

Waiting a few minutes to make sure he's asleep I almost pass out from restriction if oxygen.

I let out the air that has been trapped in my lungs and whisper out a tentative 'Remus?'.

No answer.

That's good.

I don't know what I would have done if he had answered.

Perhaps he could have helped me?

Given me a sleeping draught or even an ear to talk off.

But I don't think that's what I want - what I need - right now.

A part of me desperately wants to go back to the way thing used to be, the way I used to see myself.

The way whenever I woke up in the morning it was with a smile on my face and a laugh in my throat.

The way I used to find happiness in life.

But another part of me doesn't want to burden my friends.

I don't want to worry them with the fact that I can't sleep.

Or the fact that everytime I look in the mirror I feel like throwing up.

Or speaking of throwing up - they can never know my...unusual eating habits.

But like I said some small part of me desperately wants their help.

Their help to make things go back to the way they were.

Afterall, simply being alive seems like a chore all on its own these days, so the times when I'm happy and content with life are very few and very far between.

Sighing quietly I sit up and run a hand through my hair, as if all of those thoughts will fall out like dandruff.

I gotta get out of here.

Leaving the dorm room - perhaps a little less frantically than last night - I make sure to grab my wand on my way out.

I make my way through the common room and out into the halls.

I'm not sure of the time, but just like the night previous I find the silent halls too eerily quiet.

It's so noiseless I irrationally find myself wanting to scream, just to fill the void with some noise - any noise.