❀ twenty-four ❀

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Lilly's POV

I sobbed into my pillow as I clutched my phone to my chest. It was so pathetic of me to be waiting for Luke to text me, but I missed him. It hurt me just thinking about him, thinking about our memories, thinking of how he was supposed to be my tutor; nothing more. But here I was, crying over the boy who was known to fuck around with a different girl's feelings each week. It was pathetic, I was pathetic. At the same time, Luke had made me so happy. He had been there for me when no one else had, especially through the toughest times. When I broke down and cried, or when I mourned for Michael and Francesca, he was there. He would hold me and stroke my hair, whispering comfort words to me as I cried into his chest. Now, his chest has been replaced with a pillow.

I removed the covers from my body, placing one foot on the cold hard wood floor. My phone was still clutched in my hand, waiting for a text that would never come. I didn't know why I came downstairs, I just stood there. Since it was bright and sunny, I decided to go out and check the mail. Opening the door, there was a box. I hesitantly bent down and picked it up, trying to find out who it was from. My subconscious kept telling me it was from him, but I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind.

I closed the door and walked back inside, holding the box with both hands, my phone placed on top. Sitting down on the couch, I sighed as I stared at the box. I was too scared to open it, I didn't know what was inside. What if I was making a big deal out of this? What if it was just mom's new clothes? I never talked to her, she never was around anymore, so how would I know? I took a knife from the kitchen and cut open the box, which revealed various notebooks. Two stacks of notebooks, and I was now completely confused. I picked one up and examined it, flipping it front to back, not daring to read the pages. I sighed, my breathing coming out shaky. I opened the cover, only reading the first page. It was blank. I tried to look at the next page, and it was completely filled. 'Reasons Why I Hate Myself.' The title was enough to make my heart stop, and I automatically knew who it belonged to. I carefully skimmed the tip of my finger over the messy words written on the page, not reading them. But once I did, tears began streaming down my face. 

1. My acne is horrible.

2. I'm nerdy.

3. I'm fucking tall.

I shook my head at all of them, not bothering to read the rest. This was only one of the many notebooks Luke had sent me, for an unknown reason. I had realized Luke was insecure, but not to this extent where he had made dozens of notebooks listing all his insecurities and flaws. The insecurities and flaws I fell in love with. 

I had no clue he was this broken, sure I had known about his scars, the way he damaged himself on purpose to feel even more damaged. I felt physical pain for this boy, the way he had brought himself down, the way he had blamed everything on himself. Why couldn't he see he was perfect? Maybe not to others, especially not to himself, but to me, he was everything. He was my everything. He was why I was always happy, he was why I got through everything. It was always him.

I made my way through each notebook, paining myself more and more just by reading them. I finally got through twelve of them, and stood up to throw the box out. But then, I saw another notebook. It was new, and it looked untouched. I looked at it, as if it would disappear if I touched it. Carefully opening it, I flipped the pages and realized there was nothing inside. I went back to the front of the page and found writing, and a picture attached. A picture of Luke and I, the one taken with his Polaroid. I looked at the writing, then read it.

Reasons Why I Hate Myself

1. I still have acne. 

2. I'm still tall as fuck.

3. I lost the best change that has happened to me.

Underneath reason three was our picture, and I sobbed. I clutched the notebook near my chest and sobbed on my couch, not knowing what to do. This was the updated version of his reasons, and I was part of it. I had contributed to making him hate himself. Then, something in my brain clicked. If he had made this to hate himself, what was he doing now? I threw on a jacket which had the stupid school logo on it and put on my flip-flops and rushed outside, getting worried. I was ten minutes away from Luke's house, ten fucking minutes was all he needed to do something that he would regret. I quickened my pace and took shortcuts, cutting the time down. When I finally reached Luke's house, the lights were off. All the lights were off, except his room. I knocked on the door, but no one came. Turning my head to the window, I realized it was a quarter way open, and decided to climb through it. 

Once I was inside, I called Luke's name repetitively as I rubbed sweat off of my forehead. I ran up the stairs and barged into his room, looking around. The bed was undone, and the ceiling fan was off. I rushed out, still attempting to call Luke's name. I kept pushing the thought out of my head, but it finally ate me alive and forced me to go it's way. I pushed the doors open, leading to the bathroom, and I saw scattered bottles of alcohol, a bottle of pills, and Luke on the floor. And he wasn't moving. 

A/N: I THOUGHT THIS CHAPTER WAS CHEESY BUT IT GOT OKAY AT THE END IDK I THINK IT SUCKED BUT I HAD RAN OUT OF IDEAS OKAY SORRY 


BUT LILLY AW I LISTENED TO SOME SAD SONGS WHILE WRITING THIS LIKE ED SHEERAN AND COLDPLAY


I ACTUALLY CRIED MYSELF O


ANYWAY IF YOU WANNA FOLLOW MY TWITTER I HAVE UPDATES ON WHEN IM UPDATING SO YOU DONT HAVE TO KEEP WAITING OKAY YES I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER YAY


ALSO I MADE A TUMBLR AND ITS amnesia-apparel.tumblr.com


ILL PUT IT IN MY BIO OR SOMETHING IDK


MY TWITTER IS ALSO IN MY BIO 


IN CASE YOU DON'T WANT TO GO ALLLL THE WAY TO MY BIO IT'S MLCHAELCLLFFORD


OKAY BYYYEEE ILY


P.S. LOOK OUT FOR A NEW MICHAEL OR CALUM FANFIC COMING SOON YAY

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