She wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. She looks over to her friend sleeping on the floor next to her, she hasn't woken up. How does she not know? How can she not realise what's happening to her best friend?
She climbs out of bed and walks into her bathroom; she ties her hair back and bends over the sink, splashing cold water onto her face. Telling herself 'it's just a dream, it's just a nightmare. He can't hurt you anymore'. She remembers it all like it was yesterday. She rubs her eyes until they're red and bloodshot and then sits on the side of the bath. She moves the wet strands of hair from her eyes and lets out a long sob.
How could she still be dwelling on this? How was this something she was still upset about? He didn't care what happened to her. He didn't care about her at all! He was just using her the entire time, but, then again, could she care enough to say she liked him? Could she ever admit to even slightly enjoying being in his company? Yeah, he had hurt her, but she didn't care, did she?
He had killed her. He killed the girl who threw her head back and laughed until the corners of her big blue eyes crinkled, he killed the girl who used to smile at you until her cheeks hurt too much to continue and finally he killed the girl who used to trust and love. She had helped him, he had given her the gun, and she had pulled the trigger. She never should have gone to see him; she should have trusted that her friends would make it better.
She snapped out of this self-pitying state, feeling sorry for herself wouldn't make anything better. She dried her face off, the cold water washed away the tears too, and went back to bed. She couldn't get to sleep straight away; it had been a terrible dream. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and stared up at the ceiling, did she really hate herself this much? Did she really? Could she ever be restored to her 'former glory'. She remembered the last words he had said to her.
"How could you do this? Is this that you really are? So quick to cheat, to give up his trust? Go kill yourself, no one would miss you, no one could ever love you, you know? You'll get what you deserve."
He was right. She had gotten all that she deserved, she hadn't wanted to cheat, she hadn't wanted to destroy her friends but she had no choice. She was fine with the rumours about her, she didn't care. Let them think what they want, well that's what's she always said to herself. But, the thought of him spreading rumours about her beloved boyfriend was too much to bear.
She looked down at her sleeping companion and smiled to herself. 'She doesn't know'. No one knew no one knew what all of this had done to her. How it had driven her close to madness, how it had flipped her precious little world around, completely oblivious. She didn't know what was real and what was not real; she would have moments of insanity. Thinking awful things, doing awful things and losing herself. It was like she was an actor, slipping in and out of character all the time.
'I know I act tough, but inside I'm really scared,' she thought to herself. 'I can't tell how I'm supposed to feel, I can't handle all of this'. She got into her bed and pulled the covers right up to her chin, feeling safe like this. She curled up into a little ball and began to fall asleep.
As she was losing the battle with consciousness, she glanced down at the scars that lined her wrists. She smiled sadistically to herself; they made her happy, made her feel in control for once. As long as they were they, nothing could break down her wall, the wall she had constructed of all the hurt and internal pain.