I'm Not Okay (I Promise) • Geetrick

8

---Patrick---

Open fly my eyes as I sit up in bed, drenched in sweat and tears. My breathing fast and my arms and legs shaky as I look around to see nobody in my room except me. It was just a dream. More of a nightmare.

It was real at one point. It's one of the worst memories out of all the ones I have from this hellhole. Of course, that's the memory that I'd dream about after yesterday. I just want to go back to sleep. Forget that any of this ever happened. Forget that I exist. Sometimes sleep helps more than cutting. It makes me feel dead. When I'm asleep, I cease to exist for just a little while. I don't have to think. I don't have to see anyone. I can be alone in my dreams.

I lean back and shut my eyes again, but he's behind my eyelids, too. Leaning over my helpless body as he unzips my pants... running his cold, filthy fingers into my underwear and massaging me, making me more and more uncomfortable.

I opened my eyes, immediately feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of it. And it's my fault...

You are such a fucking slut, Patrick. What the hell? Do you want him to rape you? Do you enjoy it? Do you like the way he forces you to your knees for him? Whore. You're a disgusting whore.

I jolt up and run into the bathroom with ten quick steps, slamming the door shut and pulling the toilet seat up just in time before what I had of last night's dinner comes up. Not much but enough to give me something to puke up.

I'm filthy. I'm so filthy. I'm such a disgusting slut. Why do I let him do this to me?

You're sick.

My hands shakily flush the toilet, pressing the seat back down as I lean over the counter, tears of shame dripping from my eyes. I look up at myself, my sick, filthy, disgusting, sinful self. I'm a mess. I'm a fucking mess...

Bzzt

I don't want to answer it. Not now just-please. I want to die. I want to get out of this hellhole. I want The Incident to just have never happened. I want somebody to realize I don't want to talk. I want to forget the world for just a little while...

But I only want what I can't have.

I pull my phone from my pocket, tears running down my cheeks as I notice Gerard had texted me.

Gerard: Hey, are you okay?

Gerard: Uh... Goodnight I guess...

I look at the digital clock on my phone, the blocky numbers reading: 11:24 PM. My heart sinks as I remember that I said I'd text him back earlier. I forgot all about it, and it makes me feel even more guilty than before as I realize he must hate me now. I quickly text him back, knowing it would be rude to ignore him, and he's probably disappointed in me.

Patrick: I'm sorry. Had to make dinner and I forgot.

I send the lie with guilt and a strong sense of regret. I forgot? He's going to think I don't like him. I do like him! Before I can text back and apologize again, he replies.

Gerard: it's fine. Can you talk?

I'm surprised he forgives me so easily. So he's not mad that I forgot? Why not? I hesitantly text back, knowing I should probably clean myself up.

Patrick: Yeah, just a minute. I promise I'll text back haha.

I set my phone down and grab my toothbrush from the bathroom cupboard, Kevin's taste still in my mouth. I shudder as I squirt the minty substance onto the brush and begin cleaning my mouth.

Gerard: Okay :)

I sigh, running my free hand through my hair. I still haven't forgotten about the memory. It haunts me. It's my fault that he does it to me... Do I want to subconsciously? Why...? I place my toothbrush as far back as I can, right where Kevin was earlier but I only choke on the toothbrush, and I'm reminded of him. That thought alone makes me gag even more before I have a chance to catch my breath over the sink, calming my reflex and shutting my eyes as I spit out the blue-white film in the back of my throat.