An executioner will always be an executioner

I remember all the shit I spewed at him last night because it was my breaking point. I inwardly groan at how pathetic I must have been in his eyes. Then again, he's never thought the best of me in any way.

At least I'm in a good room. I think of my mother and hope she doesn't know I'm here. She would go crazy. I look out the window and see that it's already dawn. Well, it's just dawn. I guess I didn't get much sleep because it was already late when it all happened.

I look up at the sky for a few minutes until I feel a wave of exhaustion hit me again. It's a deep exhaustion like I've never felt before, and I realize how tired I really am. I'm tired of living this life, tired of living in a constant state of exhaustion and unhappiness. I wish I could just end it all. It pains me to live such an empty existence.

Some days I am fine and others I feel a surge of sadness and emptiness in my heart. I wish I had something to fill the emptiness with, but nothing brings me joy or happiness anymore. I have nothing to fill that emptiness with.

Realizing that makes me feel so hopeless. It makes me cry for all the pain in my heart and soul and all the things I wish I had, like someone to love me and tell me that life is worth living and that high school won't last forever. I wish someone would tell me those things because I can't find the will to tell myself anymore. I wish someone would hold me and make all the pain go away.

On the days when I no longer find the will to live, I keep trying to tell myself that I will get through this phase of my life. But the more I try to make it better, the more it hurts my psyche. People always say that in order to have a happy life, you have to make yourself happy by healing and loving yourself first.

But none of them ever tell you how hard it is to try to heal the broken parts of you. They don't tell you how hard it is to fall in love with all the parts of you that you hate. If you hate them so much, how are you supposed to love them to heal?

Believe me, the road to self-love is hard and ugly when you have so many problems with yourself, plus mental problems with no one to help you overcome them. You always have the feeling of being alone, with no one to guide you on the right path.

I shift my body to stop looking at the sky and at him. I feel my thoughts drowning me. It's an endless cycle of daily berating and hatred inside my head. I wish the voices would just shut the fuck up.

I made enough of a fool of myself last night, and I don't need him to see me like this again. Every time I look at him, I feel like I'm drowning under his weight. How can someone so beautiful create so much destruction without lifting a finger?

He must have sensed my movement because his arm is around me tightly and I close my eyes tightly and pretend to fall asleep in case he wakes up. I don't even know what I would tell him, would I tell him to leave or would I beg him to stay because I love the pain he inflicts on me?

Sometimes I hate myself more when I realize that I crave his kind of pain as much as he craves hurting me, and I'm not talking about when his minions attack me. I'm talking about when we're together. In those stolen moments, all his defenses are down and I can see a different side of him. It's one I long for, but it's also one I hate. It shows me what could have been if we didn't have this hatred that is so much ours.

I won't even deny that the feeling of being in his arms right now is one I wish I could feel on the nights when it gets to be too much for me. His warmth fills the coldness I always feel deep inside me. But there is still so much unsaid between us that it would be a minefield to walk through.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes again, the room is illuminated by the daylight coming through the window and it looks like it's already dawn. I look at the clock above the door and see that I was right. It is past one o'clock in the afternoon. Most obviously, I am now alone.

I wonder how long Rayan stayed and where he went. But I'm glad I have a moment to myself. What would I say to him if he were still here? My room is empty and a wave of loneliness washes over me, making me feel sad again. I let out a sigh, wondering when the sadness will go away.

I hate hospitals and I want to get out of here. Whenever I'm in one I get flashbacks of the past, I get scared and almost have panic attacks. I try not to have one right now, I take a deep breath in and then release it slowly, then repeat it a few times.

I keep doing it when the door opens and a doctor and nurse come into my room. I sit up a little on the bed and wait expectantly for what I know is going to happen.

"Miss Stevens , how are you feeling today?" he asks me in a kind voice.

"I'm feeling fine," I tell her.

"I'm sure you know the effects drugs have on the body when taken in extreme doses. I'm also sure you know you shouldn't be taking them, especially given your medical history," he tells me.

I stare at him because, obviously, I know that. But do I care? No. Otherwise I wouldn't have been taking them every day for weeks.

"If you keep this up, you run the risk of developing heart complications, as well as other complications due to the operation you underwent as a child. We've removed the pills you had in your stomach, but you are severely dehydrated and close to being malnourished. Are you following me so far?" he asks.

"Yes. I understand. I'll handle it." I sigh. I knew what I was getting myself into would have complications, but I didn't have time to think about that. I needed the Percocet to lose weight, and I also needed some Adderall to use when I needed to concentrate. Yes, the Percocet wasn't the only drug I got and was taking.