Mr Kingston's Roommate | ꪜ

Mr Kingston's Roommate|54

Leila's POV
Insecurities 

Sitting upright, my throat had finally released the breath I had been holding unconsciously. I thought I wouldn't endure any nightmares, but that day keeps reappearing in my head on loop. I already accepted the fact that we were okay, but my mind doesn't seem to want to correspond with reality.

I swung my legs off my bed as bile suddenly crept up my throat. The Iv pole standing beside me wobbled under my heavy grip and I dragged it beside me, scrambling towards the bathroom. When I made it inside, I fell onto my knees and emptied out the contents of my dinner into the bowl.

The moment I flickered my eyes shut, I saw his face on the verge of rendering lifeless. My fingers twitched until it collapsed into full blow tremors that crept up my arms. I slumped down onto the cold tiled floor, ignoring the fact that this was dangerously unhygienic.

I guess the past few nights are a huge tell that I suffer from PTSD. I can't close my eyes without seeing the accident, I'm extremely jumpy, even if it's just the twist of a doorknob and although it's been three months, I still worry about Blake driving a car. 

He reassured me that it was okay, but that won't do it.

I rose up from my crouching position and dragged myself towards the mirror. For the entire week, I've avoided it in fear of what I looked like. I could feel the scars beneath my fingertips but I've never seen them for myself. I guess I feared reality. I didn't need any more of an indication that this was real, but my face would just be the last nail in the wood.

When I finally had the courage, I flickered my eyes open. If it were possible to feel your bones freeze, then that's exactly what it felt like at this exact moment. There was a scar, starting from my hairline all the way down to my brows, courtesy of me slamming my head against the window. 

Although the rest of my bruises already cured, there were still visible gashes on my cheek, under my eyelids, besides my lips. It appeared as if I stumbled out of a catfight, unfortunately for me, I didn't win. My hair stopped just above my shoulders, brown from my roots down to the tip of my hair where the remnants of my cherry blonde hair dye stopped.

My hair needed to be cut after it got burnt during the accident, that was the only thing I was okay with. Yet, it still didn't stop me from feeling terrible about myself. There were second-degree burn scars all over my body. My neck, my back, legs, shoulders. 

Although Doctor Bennett reassured me that in a few months the scars will completely fade away, it did nothing to ease my insecurities. Everything is a process, but what matters is how I feel now. And in all honesty, I don't feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

If I wanted to see things in a different light, I needed to remember that these scars represented something. It showed the world how I protected Blake, and I'd do it again and again, even if it means I'll have to suffer all these consequences after.

The fact that he's alive and safe is the only thing keeping me from completely shutting down mentally.

~~~

I don't know how long I sat there, maybe hours since the sun had already peaked in through the window. All I could think about was the three months of my life that I missed. I missed out the entire summer, my birthday–Kyle's and I birthday–a new semester. My life spiralled out of control the day that truck slammed against Blake's car. It was devastating to just wake up one-day unsure of what the world was like.