All Things Possible - District3 - Greg West

Part 19

Part 19: -

May Fifteenth.

Elianna’s POV

Well, it’s been a good 24 hours. Ella’s given birth to a beautiful boy named Jonah. Greg and I’s kidnappers have been given years in jail, but I’m still dubious about everything. I wanna forget it but I just can’t. It’s just too far imprinted in my brain. I just feel like it’s gonna happen again or someone’s gonna come out and just hurt me. Someone that they’ve known.

    I’m also dropping out of college and going back next year, because after what’s happened, I can’t really face anyone. I’m terrified in case anyone of them turn out to be the same. I know that’s a pathetic reason to drop out but it’s how I really feel. However, since yesterday, Greg’s fans have found out about our relationship. I’m trying so hard not to let some of their nasty comments affect me, but it’s a hard thing to forget. There have been comments about, how I should’ve died and that Greg should’ve left me there. There have been comments about, how the kidnappers should’ve hurt me many times over than what they did. How people get away with making those comments, I’ll never know. Greg tried to take my phone away from me but I was smarter than he was, I hid it in my bra. Typical girl thing.

“You know, if you keep looking at the hate, it’ll hurt you worse than what the past has done” Greg commented. He was currently laid on my bed, trying to catch up on sleep. Ella was home and so was Jonah, so their sleep was disturbed.

“I’m not looking at the hate. Well, I’m trying not too but it’s so prominent” I said, not looking up from my phone.

“That’s the whole point of switching things off. I don’t even know why you created a twitter”

“Because, I wanted too. You’re the one who also tweeted me.  So, therefore, it’s partly your problem too Mister”

“Whatever, I’m too tired to even try to argue with you,” He mumbled.

“Go to sleep then. I’ll be in the living room, when you waken up” I spoke.

“No stay” He mumbled sleepily.

“Sorry, honey bunch, I can’t” I smirked.

“Please?” He pouted.

“I’d rather have a sleeping pattern so no thanks” I smiled. I got out the bed, leaving a pouting Greg all alone. I would’ve loved to have stayed in bed and cuddled with him but I knew I would’ve fallen asleep, and then there would’ve been pictures and the slandering would’ve begun. I’m already getting enough of it. I’m actually surprised I’m still sane.

   I wandered off out on to the roof, instead of staying in the living room. I just needed to escape reality. I wasn’t really as bad as I was, the last few days but I was still nervous as hell. It’s as if my life is becoming revolved around the scaredness and the bitterness of myself. I’m not that person, I was never that person. However, I’m becoming that person. It’s horrible to say the least but only I can stop it from happening. Only I can stop the feelings and stop the images in my head, but it’s hard. Everything’s excessively hard. My whole life has suddenly become revolved around this small piece that happened. There’s really no way out from the mental trauma that I’m feeling. There’s no way out from the nervousness I feel, whenever I step foot out my own flat. It may have something to do with the area we live in but I really don’t know anymore. It’s just as if my whole life is coming crumbling down around me.

   After about half an hour, I made my way back downstairs. It’s not that I didn’t trust Greg in my house himself, I was just scared in case the fangirls found out where I lived and tried to take down my house. Katie would not forgive me if that happened. I also know I need to get a job, to help provide the rent and things now, but it’s gonna be a lot harder than I expected right now. Especially, since I’ve just been on national news. Yep, the whole of the United Kingdom knows about my ordeal, and Greg’s. Everyone knows about what happened, and most people seem to be blaming me, for everything. I’ve read some things about how it was my fault, that I was assaulted in the first place. I’ve read that it was my fault for getting us kidnapped. I did nothing. It’s not my fault that I was taken, it’s not my fault that I was scouted out, for their pray. It’s not my fault for them not being able to control their male hormones.