Ring Ring. Ring Ring.

I slowly open my eyes and squint a few times, trying to adjust to the sharp light coming from the window.

I groan and reach over, grabbing my phone and answering it without checking the caller ID.

"Y/N, thank God you picked up. I've been calling and calling-"

"Who is this?" My voice was raspy.

"It's Devyn. How are you doin-"

"Don't try and sound like you fucking care. It's been a whole fucking month and week, and no one. I repeat no one took their fucking time to see if I was doing okay. Call yourselves friends, my fucking ass!"

"Y/N, we're really sorry. We've just been really busy with everything that's going on, like it's really tough. Times are really tough for us and-"

"Of course it is. You have friends, family even. You don't try and starve yourself, kill yourself. You don't have to worry about financial problems. You live in a nice house. Your health is great. You've got support. No, you're doing worse than me, am I right?"

There was no sound on the other side.

"That's what I thought." before she could say any further words, I hung up and went to the bathroom.

As I went in I came face to face with the old pictures of Colby and I, that I stuck to my mirror, God knows why.

My eyes scanned the pictures and then the mirror. I look so different. I've lost weight. I look horrible. And miserable.

But this is my new life.

"Where exactly are we going to explore?"

"Well, there is this haunted house here in LA, so why not explore that?"

We drove for about twenty minutes and finally stopped in front of a familiar looking place. We got out and moved slowly into the house. To our surprise, the door wasn't locked.

This was going to be a very easy exploration trip.

It's all going to be over soon.

Feeling the cold metal against my hand, inches away from my wrist was somewhat satisfying.

Having songs playing through my earphones helped me to calm down. This is finally happening. This is what I want.

If my parents were still here, they'd be so proud of me for killing myself. Probably the proudest they'd ever be.

This is what everyone wanted.

Probably including my "friends" and Colby.

If they really wanted me alive, they'd care for me and be real friends, not temporary one's.

I know I want to kill myself, but for some reason for the last time, I want to be wrapped in Colby's arms.

I want to see my roommates one last time.

But if that was to happen.

I would still act mad.

Even though I'm not.

I'm anything but mad.

I'm depressed.

I just need someone to comfort me.

But the emotions that I'm feeling, makes my actions different. Totally different.

My eyes shut close, tears slipping down my cheeks. I felt the sharp, cold metal rest on my wrist. I inhale a deep, sharp breath before exhaling and opening my eyes again.

Tears were spilling out my eyes.

Is this really what I want?

Suddenly I felt the cold metal being removed from my skin by a pair of hands.

My earphones get pulled out of my ears and I'm being tightly embraced. The musk smell was familiar and I could tell who it was.

Even though I was mad, I hugged back.

This is what I want.

This.

Being comforted.

By someone who I still love.

But the same person who ripped my heart out of my chest.

I kept weeping on his shirt. I missed this.

This feeling of warmth.

This feeling of safety.

This tight embrace.

This guy.

This.