The Next Chapter: Twisted Series Next Generation

Chapter 69: Callum Harper

With my humility, I will be the first to admit that I did lash out at the hospital. My reason however is completely justifiable.

Listening to Sofia and my own Sister play devil's advocate for the idiot who was the reason Jeremy was in the hospital in the first place was enough to light a fuse within me. It annoyed me that they appeared so content and rational with their decisions.

While I was being swallowed up by the turmoil in my head, there was a tempest of emotions that plagued me into a state of fury.

I was never a particularly angry person. The old me hated being in touch with any emotions even behind closed doors. That fix of ecstasy managed to castrate any heavy emotions I should have released and instead drove me down a long term spiral.

My chapped lips pressed together as I sat on the edge of my bed in my room, the sun had barely risen and I had gotten no message indicating that Jeremy was okay.

Most likely because they were all angry at me for causing such a scene, but I did not particularly care.

There was just a deep need for me to get out of that stuffy hospital that suffocated me to a dangerous extent the longer I stayed there.

I was a liar if I said I had not thought about using tonight. It was a constant thought that was aching to find home in my brain and influence me enough to fall off of the rails again.

God I was tempted. So tempted that I earlier pulled up to the moron who used to sell me a bag every so often.

But I had no choice, I had to restrain myself.

Truthfully, there were several external factors that had me hesitating. For one I could not deal with my Father if he found out I relapsed. Nor could I deal with the heartbroken expression on my Mother and Siblings' faces once they learned of the news.

Was I well known for being a selfless individual? Absolutely not. However, I was starting to grow some limitations.

Even the thought of going back to rehab made me want to run a stick through my mind.

Failure was a term that described me more often than naught, and nobody would be surprised if I gave into that selfish desire again.

Yet there was one big thing that I had been contemplating the longest.

Jeremy.

What if he had died and I was too high to attend his funeral.

When the thought first graced my mind, I threw up. Even now I shudder in discomfort at the remembrance of what could potentially happen.

God, there was too much unresolved between us for me to simply allow him to slip through my fingers.

There was too much hidden beneath his stoic expression, a disturbance that lies there waiting to be discovered.

And It will be discovered by me.

My clothes were strewn across my bedroom floor and I was only in boxers, it had gotten too hot as perspiration began to lace my skin. It had felt suffocating and I needed to be able to breathe again.

Letting my arms loosely hand against my knees, I could feel my jaw tightening with every grim thought that filled my mind.

A frustrated growl escaped me as I angle my body and reach for my bedside drawer, yanking it open with a heavy force in search of a cigarette. Pushing myself off of my bed in a frazzled state as I throw every item that was not a lighter or cigarette out of my way.

Random papers flew around me as my desperate hands managed to reach the maroon bottom of the drawer, only to find nothing to soothe my tension.

"Fuck!" My words were heavy, as I yanked the drawer out of its place and threw it to the wall. Breathing so heavily that my chest began to hurt. My trembling hand reached up and clutched it, while the other wiped the sweat off of my brow.