| Teenage Dirtbag Z.M. |

11

I don't think you truly know pain until you cry in the morning, covering your mouth so you don't wake up anyone. Yea, everyone feels alone at night but when the night subsides the sun comes up. The sun is supposed to dry tears, yet here I am having a breakdown in the bathroom connected to Zayn and I's bedroom.

I'm sitting on the floor, back leaning and head laying on the strong jacuzzi bathtub behind me. I felt so lightheaded headed, all I could do is open my eyes to allow more tears to fall. Closing it only over flooded this seemingly magically regenerating monster.

Thinking why did I wake up, what even is my purpose? Now don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal. I can't imagine myself content in the abyss when I see loved or mediocre ones pass by my open casket. I'll be too busy frowning because they did my makeup wrong and didn't take out one of my ribs so my waist looks smaller.

No no I cannot have them see me all ugly.

I sink beneath the surface, letting warm water kiss all of my skin. I stayed there for a while before coming back up for air and repeating the same steps over and over again.

It was nice, feeling my hair get swept back as I rose and the sunlight from the window caressed my skin.

Maybe I took too long, because my fingers became pruned like raisins and Zayn knocked on the door like a mad man.

"Open it, bro. I need to pee."

Bro. I thought to myself and rolled my eyes while running to open the door then hop back into the oval, jacuzzi styled bath tub. I stared at the floor, looking at my wet footprints as Zayn used the restroom.

"What's wrong?" He asked while washing his hands.

"Did you know my dad did all that?" I asked, clutching my knees up to my chest in the water that now grew cold.

"I mean.. everyone knows." He said, sitting against the wall so we faced one another across the room.

"Not me."

"We both know you're not just anybody Lu."

"What does that even mean?"

"You're so oblivious to everything. Partly because you're so good you blindly expect everyone else to be too, and partly because you're so consumed in your own thoughts you can't fathom adding other people's real thoughts, not what you think they think, to that negative mess up there." He said, poking my head with his index finger like a child would a fish tank.