"H-how long.." Ember asked, trembling as the man slowly walked back and forth- eyeing her unceasingly.
"Sweetheart. If you really knew how long I've watched your boring, pathetic life- you'd be more scared of me then you are now, and I'm far too in...
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The devil's in the details But you got a friend in me
E M B E R
The clock strikes 10:00. This is unhealthy. What the hell am I doing?
It's been two weeks. Two weeks since I talked to Calum. Two weeks since Harry Styles crossed a boundary, and then kept fucking going.
I wonder if he knows that, though. That I despise him for all of his being- his inhumane, barbaric, sadistic being. He's a monster, completely callous and cruel, but yet, he spoke to me in such an affectionate and caring way. It makes my skin crawl.
My mind can't help but be overloaded at the sudden thought that maybe Calum isn't speaking because Calum isn't alive. Maybe Harry killed him, because he knew. Oh, he knew. Harry knows that I love Calum and Calum loves me and he hates it. For that, I hate him.
What sort of person would let jealousy overcome them so much to the point of murder? An inhumane, barbaric, sadistic one.
School had been rough. Like, real fucking rough. I'd skipped a few days after the Dakota incident but I was forced to return. By god, how I am miserable.
Everyday is the exact same. Not in the boring, average way, but in the terrible way. I'm getting bullied now, for the shittiest reasons too. I eat alone. If I even eat. I haven't talked to a person other than my family in a week now, or at least held a conversation. How do people live like this? Don't get me wrong, I was never a social butterfly, but I had Niall. At least I had Niall. He's gone too now, did I mention that?
Currently, I'm staying up again. My eyes are trained to my phone, or flick to it whenever it lights up. I have this stupid theory that if anyone texted me, I wouldn't be able to see it quick enough. Stupid, right?
I've busied myself with dying my hair. It's platinum blonde now, so that's cool. I don't think it looks cool. It's not me, it doesn't look like me.
I finally put the phone down again, tiredly. I have considered giving up and forgetting all about Cal, but I can never bring myself to. I can't just forget someone I loved- and still love.
I slip off my pants and kick them into some corner of my room, followed by my shirt. I get into bed in solely my undergarments, not bothered enough to put on anything else. If anyone has a problem with it, then they shouldn't have come into my room. They're problem, not mine.
My mind drifts off to a happier place. A time when I wasn't alone, afraid. It was a month ago, early November I believe.
