𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄, lando norris

17 ; he's like a cockroach

Ever since I talked to Toni a few days back, my feelings were mingling with my thoughts, raging inside my head. I hadn't slept properly since Lando left for Bahrain.

He didn't call me.

I waited for him to call me, though. Restless, I laid in bed —

Staring at my phone, hoping his name would pop up on my screen.

But it didn't, and it made anger rise inside me. My feelings were hurt, he didn't care about how I felt. He didn't care that I missed him eternally, that he was the only thing on my mind.

That I didn't go to my classes ever since he hurt me.

I tried to convince myself that he was busy, that he had better things to do. I tried, I really did. But the countless pictures of him clubbing, of him dancing with other girls haunted me, clung to me like a shadow. I wished it didn't matter to me, that it didn't affect me.

But it did.

More than I wanted it to.

I didn't go to therapy anymore. My mental health had reached its breaking point. I had reached my breaking point. The urge to smoke, not only cigarettes but weed too, overcame me day for day and I couldn't stop it. There was no Lando soothing me, there was no Lando telling me to not do it, that it smelled awful.

I knew he hated that smell.

I hated what he did, too.

And he didn't care, either.

Last night was worse than the nights before. I hurt myself in order to feel better —

I called him that night, the blood dripping down my fingers.

But I couldn't bring myself to talk. Nothing came out of my mouth but desperate sobs that chocked me. He was worried, of course he was. Not late after, Jenna came barging into the room. He had called her, told her that I did something bad, something he didn't want me to do.

And ever since then, I laid in bed. Motionless, restless. My body was exhausted, my soul even more. I felt hollow, felt like only the shell of myself was left. Lando took that part of me with him, left me lifeless.

Left me drained.

He brought me happiness, brought me back to life when I thought I had died that night. And now, that part me of was gone. He took it with him, took the life out of me, took it with him to Bahrain.

Perhaps he would bring it back with him, or maybe not. Either way, I didn't care anymore. I couldn't bring myself to care about any of that anymore.

Because he was the only thing I cared about, because his happiness was the only thing that mattered to me.

I felt so utterly stupid for prioritising him, for not caring about myself.

There was a knock on my door that pushed me out of my misery, or at least the misery inside my head —

The raging storm of thoughts and feelings.

Jenna barged in.

Her features were tense, she looked angry.

"Get up," She urged, pulling the blanket off my body, tore open the curtains, pulled my body up in a sitting position. Startled, I looked at the furious woman. Tears were in her eyes. "I'm not going to watch you destroy yourself. Get the fuck up!" Jenna screamed, trying to grab my arm but I pulled it away.

What has gotten into her?

What happened?

What was she so angry about?

"I lost my sister, too! Do you see me dwell in self-pity? No, because she wouldn't have wanted this! Because your mother was ambitious, because she knew what she wanted. I thought you did, too. But ever since Lando got here, he messed with your head. He's like — He's like a cockroach that you can't seem to get rid of. He's..." She sighed, fiddling for the right words.

"Look, he's great. He's good for you. You have never opened up to anyone like this before and I am sincerely happy that he's there, but this can't go on. You can't just... loose hope in yourself every time he leaves because fuck —" She let out an exaggerating loud scream that echoed through the room for a bit longer than I liked.

"Because that's his job. Because he's never home, apart from the weeks off he gets. So, either you go with him, or you pull yourself together. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Ruffling her hair, Jenna sighed. She bit her lip, then the inside of her cheek. She looked overwhelmed, she didn't know what to do.

"It's been months and you still haven't talked about what happened." She was desperate for an explanation, for something that would somehow justify my behaviour. And still, even after my diagnosis, she chose to ignore the symptoms, chose to make me feel miserable instead.

"Because there's nothing to talk about."

She nodded. Jenna pressed her lips together and nodded, as if nothing happened. As if she didn't just belittle me, as if she said nothing to hurt me.

"This is going to end. Either you're going to therapy, or I will bring you into one of those hospitals." She pointed her finger at me, before my aunt turned to leave. She stopped at the door, gripped onto the door handle but she didn't turn around.

"Toni asked to see you. It seems like it is pretty urgent. You should go."

If this was her way of coping, then so be it. If this was the only way for her to get me out of bed, then I'd gladly visit Toni. I didn't want Jenna to be upset, I didn't want her to loose control over her actions like a few moments ago.

I loved Jenna.

I loved my parents, too.

And now they were gone.

It was, in no way, her or Daniel's fault —

But they copied better than me, they weren't there. They didn't experience what I did, they didn't need to hang on for dear life. They had never fought for their lives, they would never know how the encrusted wound felt like burned on their skin, they would never know how the knife felt when it pierced through my skin.

They would never know because they couldn't, because they didn't experience it.