15 August 2012

Sorry about yesterday! I managed to get a full, long chapter in today, lucky 'cause I didn't think I could do it! :)

*Justin's POV* It happened too quickly. One minute, I was patiently sat in the lobby of the Psychiatrist's offices. Nothing much going on. My Mom sat next to me, reading People magazine. A sudden burst of rain smashed down on the Tarmac outside, so hard on the ground you could hear it from inside the building. The next minute, Drew came sprinting down the hall, past me and my mom, and out of the building. As she passed, I saw the salty tears streaming down her face, her hands tearing at her cheeks to wipe them away. She sobbed and cried as she passed, shaking her head as she bolted out the double doors. I was immediately on my feet and running behind her, gone before my Mother could blink. The rain hit down hard on the empty car park, slapping against my face and body, sending cold chills through my spine and down my legs. I have to keep running. I just have to. I have to follow Drew. I have to catch her. She was still running, towards my Range Rover. She stopped to try the door handle, but it didn't open. Ha. I have the keys. The sudden delay gave me time to catch up, and I slammed into her back with my chest. The force of my body knocked the wind out of her, making her gasp for breath as I wrapped my arms around her waist. It was more of a security measure than a loving gesture. "Why are you... Running?" I gasped in her ear, the ice cold rain slamming down on our bodies, now accompanied by a freezing chill of gusting wind. She continued to cry, trying to struggle and twist out of my arms. I didn't let her go, I kept my grip firm and confident, not allowing her to leave until she told me what was wrong. "Stop struggling" I told her, my voice strained from so much effort to hold her back. I swiftly turned her around to face me, holding her tight to my chest. Her face was covered in tears, mascara streaming down her cheeks in messy lines. Her lower lip quivered and her eyebrows knitted together in an upset frown. And then she broke down. She fell in a devastated heap in my arms, letting her whole body fall limp. I caught her just in time, cradling her to my chest. She hugged onto me as if I was fading away, loud, agonising sobs escaping her lips. "Drew, Drew what's wrong?" I asked again, holding her small body to mine. She began to shiver with the cold of the rain, but I didn't have a free hand to take the car keys out of my pocket, they were too busy holding Drew. I was the only thing keeping her together right now. "I'm a freak" she sobbed, nuzzling her head into my neck as she cried. The tears rolled off of her skin and onto mine, and in that moment, I could almost tell why she was crying. "What happened Drew?" I asked quietly, my voice barely audible over the pounding rain on the concrete. "I'm... I'm crazy". You could tell in her voice that she'd chickened out of what she was originally going to say. The slight hesitation flashed like a neon sign in Las Vegas. "Drew, tell me" I didn't know whether to make my voice gentle or firm, so it came out as a bit of a confused mess of a tone. Her lips continued to quiver as she pulled back and looked into my eyes with hers. I don't think she's ever looked so scared and insecure. Ever. She looks like she might fall apart, piece by piece, right in front of me. "I'm... I'm...". "You're what?" I prompted. "I'm Schizophrenic". Schizo. Phrenic. She's schizophrenic. She has schizophrenia. There are a thousand ways to put it, but none seem right. None seem appropriate. This beautiful girl in front of me, who has done nothing wrong in her life, who might as well be an angel, who is so perfect she could have easily been sent down from heaven, has a mental illness. Schizophrenia. I've read about it before. I don't know where, and I don't know why, but I have. It's a mental illness. It causes your emotions and actions to be a bit... Over-exaggerated. Hyper-active if you will. As if your emotions are a very sensitive match, and anything too much to handle, is the spark you need to burn down a house. You hallucinate and your behaviour goes wild. No. Not Drew. Not my baby girl. And suddenly, I was crying. Properly crying. Tears running rapidly down my cheeks as I looked into Drew's hopeless eyes. She stared back at me, and I knew I should have stayed strong, but I couldn't. I wasn't ready for this. I'd just killed a guy. I was the one that needed therapy. If there was some sort of way.... Give me the illness, not her. Spare her God, please. Give me Schizophrenia. I'll do it. Anything. Just don't do this to her. "Drew..." I sobbed, pulling her close to my chest. We were holding each other together. If we let go, that would be the end of the both of us. I has no idea what to say, or what to do. I wanted to tell her I could make it better. That everything would be fine and we could heal her mind, bit by bit. I pressed my lips down on hers, as if I could cure her by kissing her. When I pulled back, there was that same, despairing look in her eyes. Nothing had changed. Nothing was going to change. Not now. Not next week, next month. Not ever.

I leaned against the bathroom door. The sound of the shower running was the only noise coming from inside. That, and Drew's agonising sobs. She talked to herself, mostly repeating the phrase "I'm not crazy". All the other other times, it was just the crying. I don't know why I was listening to this. It just made me want to cry again. Like a total girl. However, my masculinity - or clear lack of it in this case - is not at all important right now. Drew is what's important. She'd get up in the morning, not touch her food, sit in silence and take a shower for most of the day. That was the only place she would openly cry. Locked away in the bathroom, crying and talking to herself. I wanted to help, I truly did. I just didn't know how. I did know that if she wanted help from me, she would have asked for it by now. Every time I went to kiss her, she'd shy away. Every time I went to hug her, she'd push me away. And every time I tried to cuddle her up to me in bed, she'd get out. Literally get out of the bed. She'd make some lame excuse like, "I'm going to brush my teeth", when she'd already brushed them three times that day. I slid my back down the bathroom door, resting my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees. "Drew?" I asked when I heard the shower shut off. "Drew, can I come in?". No reply. Just the sound of running water from the tap. "Drew... Will you please talk to me?" I sighed, reluctantly pulling myself up off the floor. I softly knocked on the door twice. "Or look at me? Or acknowledge my existence!" I spat at the door. I took a deep breath and immediately calmed myself. I went to apologise when the door half-opened. Drew stood there, in a white towel, with messy red towel-dried hair. She's so beautiful. I wanted to attempt to kiss her, but I knew she'd just reject me and make me feel worse about the situation. "Can I come in?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off her puffy red cheeks, she'd been crying so much. She gave a gentle nod. Wow. That's extreme. "I think that's the most interaction we've had since you... Since you told me" I tried to laugh, but finished on an awkward note as I stepped into the room. She closed the door behind me, sealing the steamy heat in the small room. We stood awkwardly opposite each other, looking anywhere but in the eyes. "Drew, I-" I don't know what I planned to say, so I was glad when Drew interrupted me. "Don't" she whispered. "Don't what". "Don't tell me I'm fine. Don't tell me I'm normal" she began to shake her head, more tears stinging the brim of her eyes. "Don't tell me I'm sane, and that I'm not crazy. I don't believe myself, so why in the heck would I believe you?" she finally let the tears roll down her cheeks, her eyes strong, masking the hurt and loneliness she was feeling. "Because I love you" I said quietly. She started to sob, and pressed her hands tightly over her ears. She let out cries, as if she was in mad pain, and fell down to her knees. I flew to her side, kneeling down to pry her hands from her head and make her listen to me. "Drew, Drew what's wrong?". That was all I seemed to be asking lately. What's wrong? Why won't you talk to me? It's permanently one or the other. "You don't love me. You can't. I'm crazy" she began to sob violently, leaning over and wrapping her arms around her stomach, as if holding herself. "Drew! Listen to me!" I said firmly, bringing her body up straight to look me in the eye. "You are not crazy" I said it slowly and clearly, my eyes conveying how much I believed what I said. "I love you. I don't care if you're mentally ill, physically ill or freakin' pregnant" I told her passionately, my hands gripping her shoulders. "I. LOVE. YOU" I said firmly, keeping a constant locked gaze on her perfect face and cloud grey eyes. "You don't have to do this alone. I don't want you to keep me out. I want you to let me in. I want to be the one to hold you when you wake up from the nightmares, and to convince you everything is normal when you're hallucinating" the second statement shocked her. She hadn't told me about the hallucinations. "Yeah, I know about that. Just because you don't say anything, doesn't mean your face doesn't say it all" I nodded at her, pulling her up off the bathroom floor with me. "What happens to my face?" she frowned, the tears stopping for a brief moment. "You go sort of blank. You kinda stare at nothing in particular". "That's all?". "... You dribble a bit too". Ah shit. Wrong answer. Her hand went to cover her mouth as she began to cry again. Her entire body shook with the violent sobs, and I held her to my chest, wishing I couldn't hear the painful sound of her agonised whimpers. Ok, get back on track. "What I'm trying to say is, I am with you, Drew. No matter what" I pulled back to fe

DrewTexasTexas Girl (Pt 45) • Opuss № I