Welcome To Hell, I Meant School
Mixed Signals Lead To Crashes
Devin's POV
Chris kept sending me mixed signals. At home he would be close to me, he would talk to me and we would have these deep conversations that made me happy, genuinely happy. At school was another story. He would almost avoid me, wouldn't talk to me without anyone else around, and came off cold to me. His mood swings were driving me insane. He had me hanging off every word. I was hooked and he was the drug. It was destroying me.He would push me to the breaking point and then bring me back from the edge. He had me in the clouds and then crashing to the ground on a nonstop cycle.
Which led me to my current situation. I literally could not take being in the same room as him. Texting Ash I asked if she could get all of my homework from my teachers as I signed myself out, and went home. When I got home, I locked every damn door and window and made sure Chris couldn't get in if he tried. Once I was in my room, I screamed in frustration and turned my radio on as loud as it would go. Trashing my room, I went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I punched it with all my force. It shattered everywhere and my hand hurt like hell.
I screamed and screamed until my voice was raw. This was my breaking point. What happened next was up to me. All the voices that I had ever heard were screaming at me. Telling me to take the glass and use it. But there was one voice that was telling me not to do it. Chris's voice. I've I left now; I would never have a chance with him.
Falling to the ground, I started to sob. When my bathroom door opened, I looked up to see Chris standing there above me. He saw the glass, the blood and then me. I blinked and he was at my side. He examined my hands and cleaned the blood off. Putting his arm underneath my knees and one on my back, he picked me up, and carried me downstairs to his car. We drove in utter silence. It was painfully awkward and I hated it. He saw me at my worst, and probably hates me. When we got there, he walked me in and stayed with me the entire time, but never said a thing.When they were done fixing me up, they let me go home. The car ride was intense.
When we got there, my room was cleaned and so was the bathroom. My mom was also sitting on my bed. "Chris, can you please give us a moment?" she asked sweetly.
" What the hell Devin? You leave school early and come home and trash the place. Then you have to go to the ER because smashed the mirror with your hands. Why?"
" I don't know. I was upset and then it was all a blur. When I realized what was going on, Chris was standing in front of me."
" Have you been taking your pills?"
"Which ones?"
"Damnit Devin. How long have you not been taking them?"
"Awhile." I said looking down at the floor.
"There is a reason you are supposed to be taking them."
" I didn't need them. They weren't helping."
"Devin, You were diagnosed with Depression, Anxiety, an eating disorder, mild schizophrenia, and self harm. Those pills I pay for are supposed to help you. Here's the deal, either you start taking your pills regularly and go back to therapy, OR I have you admitted until they think you are mentally stable. Your pick."
"Those pills make me feel like a freak. I can't feel anything with them. They make it worse. There was one thing making it all better and he probably hates me now. Oh god He hates me. He hates me. Everyone is going to hate me."
"Devin, I need you to calm down. You are going to give your self a panic attack if you don't stop."
"He hates me. He hates me. He hates me. I hate me.He hates me." I mumbled as I tried to rock back and forth and force the thoughts out of my head.
"Chris!" Mom yelled. He came up the stairs immediately.
"Can you get me the Anxiety pills out of the drawer in his bathroom." she asked. He nodded and went to get it. OH god. He was going to see all my razors in that draw. He's going to know. He's going to know.
I started to shake in fear. My mom got a water bottle and then took the pills from Chris. She put a pill in my mouth and then put the water in and plugged my nose so I had to take the pill or suffocate. The look Chris gave me made me swallow the pillow. As it started to work, I began to slowly feel calmer. He picked me up from the floor and put me into bed. Pulling the covers over me, he said, "Feel better soon Dev."
