Growing up (Get Scared- continued)

Blind to Love

Nick's pov.

  My parents had to go to work today, so they left me home alone, trusting me to not endanger myself. I promised I would eat. I promised I wouldn't cut myself. I promised I wouldn't kill myself. I understand the point to these promises I was forced to make, but my mind is finding sick loopholes. Eat, but only 3 strawberries from the fridge. Don't cut yourself; burn yourself with a hair straightener. Don't kill yourself, have someone else accidentally do it by jumping infront of a car. 

Like I said, Sick.

Trying to mute out the voices in my head, I blast Underoath through the shitty boom box in the living room. 

Focus. The guitar, listen to it. The progressions and the riffs, the way it flows so naturally. The way it can make me feel so many different things at once. It's amazing...

How I'd love to write a song like these people, but unfortunately, I am nothing but a talentless fool.

The voices start sneaking back in to my head. You're worthless, hopeless, buried alive, and in dismay. There's nothing that's gonna make this better. Just give up. Courtney is just being nice, no one actually loves you.

My demons suck the life and energy out of me until I can barely keep my eyes opened. My limbs feel lime they have weights attached to them, preventing me from moving easily. My breath begins to slow as I fall asleep on the couch. 

Images and memories flash behind my eye lids.

 When I got my guitar and being so excited to learn to play it. When I went to Salt Lake with Courtney to go to the crazy arcade that had just openit; her dad took us and gave us $50 to play as many games as we could. Hitting a jackpot for 1,000 tickets and getting her a big dog plush in exchange for tickets. When Lloyd started talking to me and even if he made me nervous and awkward, he makes me feel like maybe I do matter. When Johnny and I had an actual normal interaction, playing a song infront of people. Going to Disney world when I was little and taking pictures with the characters. Making cookies with my mom and decorating them with frosting and sprinkles. 

With me, for every good, there's bad that outweighs it. 

When my mom used to drink a lot. She'd try to hide it from me, but I would catch her off guard, forcing her to hide her bottles behind her beside light. Getting bullied and beaten at school, taking it because I lost self respect and believed they were so cool. Courtney's death. The year of solitude and loneliness. When I was seven and I was almost... You know... Luckily my dad heard me screaming and got to me for anything could happen to me.

Lloyd's pov.

Nick's parents asked me to stop by for a couple of hours to make sure their kid wouldn't wind up dead. 

Jeez, what's been going on with him as of late. I know he's not exactly safe by himself, but he seems to be under a lot more surveillance and rules. Maybe his parents are finally taking action about his eating disorder so he doesn't starve to death.

I knock on the door and no one answers. Mrs. Matthews said that if he didn't answer, to just walk in to make sure he's alive. So I opened the door and let myself in. In the living room, Nick is napping on the couch. His breathing is calm and steady. His eyes are slightly open so that a sliver of white is exposed. Lips are parted. By the looks of it, he's out cold.

This is creepy, I'm watching him sleep again. Right before backing away to sit else where, something catches my eyes.

His facial expression changes from peacefully sleeping to distressed. His eyebrows furrow and his lips frown. He kicks his leg and he starts to kinda groan and mumble incomprehensible words.