Friends.

Chapter 26

I don't remember watching him leave. But he must've. I haven't moved. The tears still fall but I barely notice them, it's almost like they are a part of me that I've grown accustomed to, I can't imagine myself not crying. The only difference is the sky outside is dark, the room I'm in is dark, my head is dark, my heart is dark- if there at all, and I'm inconsolable. I think I'm bleeding but I'm not too sure. I think a peice of mirror may have cut me but I don't feel it. Physical pain doesn't even make me flinch, it's bearable, hell its practically non-existent in comparison to the emotional pain I am suffering.

"Holy shit Lola!"

I think if I was awake I would feel comforted by the Irish accent that is filling my ears. But I'm not awake, atleast I don't feel like I am. Am I awake? I can't normally think when I'm asleep. But I can't be awake either. I can't see through this crippling darkness that is consuming me. I must be awake.

I'm being moved. Someone is holding me, carrying me somewhere.

The comfort of the mattress below my back is relished for a second before the hysteria overcomes me. "No! I don't want to be in this bed!" I toss and turn, trying to roll off the bed but in my mind the mattress is never ending. This is the bed where it happened. Where I was so happy and then so...not. I don't want to be anywhere near here. In fact, I don't want to be anywhere. I don't want to be.

"Stop moving. I can't clean your cut if you keep moving Lola." The familiar voice says.

Then don't clean it. Leave it to bleed. I want to bleed, Harry has already bled me dry, what could be left?

If I could talk, I'm certain that's what I would say. But in this strange state of semi-consciousness I'm in, I have discovered i can't talk. I can cry, I am still sobbing, I am still whimpering, I am still inconsolable, I am still pathetic.

"Alright come on." The voice says as I keep struggling to find my way off this nightmare mattress.

I feel the contact of skin on skin once again as I'm lifted up.

I don't know how it happened, but I'm standing under the shower head. I feel like I'm standing in the rain. I'm the main character in some horirble romantic chick flick where the couple makes up in the rain after months of being seperated. The main character, played by me in this in-my-mind movie, turns her back for a second, a smile plastered on her face, but the smile falls as the male protagonist stabs her in the back. She falls to the ground and I do too, feeling every ounce of her pain. The water does little to calm me, I'm too distraught for anything to help.

I watch the blood from my arm circle the drain and disappear, I desperately want to go with it. Take me with you, take me far away please. I beg, mentally willing myself to be anywhere but here.

I'm awake now. The cold water shocked me out of my dreamlike state. I wish it didn't, it was safer in there without the pain of reality. I was distraught, but atleast I wasn't thinking directly about what happened. He got my hopes up again, and he brought them crashing back down. I hate him with every broken part of me.

I emerge from the bathroom, gradually regaining my ability to look around and actually take in what I'm seeing.

There, sitting on my bed with his arms folded and concern written across his gentle features, Niall.

"Is Lola in there?" Niall asks me as I walk towards him, swaying slightly. I feel very unsure of my own footing and I have no idea why.

"No." I say simply. Lola isn't. Charlotte might be, if you dig around enough. Charlotte is my reasonable, logical side. Charlotte is a lawyer, a head strong independent woman who has been referred to as a genius before. Lola is a snivelling school girl who never got to have fun when she was young and is now suffering for her naivety and ignorance when it comes to the opposite sex. I don't think I like Lola anymore.