Status: Active
After Everything That Happened, I Found You
Lying on this hotel room floor
I lay on the hard, cream carpet beneath me. My elbow holding me up as I flicked the light switch on and off, repeatedly. The cord, long and curly tangled between my fingers. Staring at nothing in particular, just staring at the cream painted wall across the room. It felt weird to say the least, weird that yet again, my life had changed drasticly. One minute I'm on a plane, my band mates surrounding me in laughter. The next minute I'm alone on a deserted island in the middle of the atlantic ocean. And now, I'm here. Lying on this hotel room floor, no band mates. Just myself.
My eyes are burning, dry because I can't remember the last time I blinked. I'm just staring at this wall, not even trying to stop the tears that are building up. I think about Harry, and how I miss him so much. I think about Pete and Liam too, and how I miss them the same. Tears slowly falling from my eyes as I remember Liam's body crashing against the rocks. The large, black rocks on that island. His face not even recognisable, his skin was blue from floating in the ocean for days. I felt my stomach churn as I remember his face, that was what scared me the most. He looked like a zombie and he smelt like one too. The only thing I could do was bury him, and that's where he is now. Lying beneath the sand on that island, all alone with just the waves for company.
The large leather king size bed is on my left, my head leaning on the brown leather. The thought of sleeping on it isn't appealing, suprisingly. I'd come too acustom to sleeping on sand, sleeping on anything I could find. Anything that was swept up on the shore. I look over at the gas fire, well, if you could call it a fire. It's burning slowly as I'm still flicking the lights on and off, I don't know why I'm doing it but it feels nice. It's comforting that I have control over something as small as a light switch after having control over nothing at all.
There's a beeping noise coming from somewhere out in the hall. There's noise coming from the street, lots of noise. I've never noticed it until now how loud New York is, even though I was 23 stories up in a 5 star hotel. I don't wanna be here, a part of me wants to be back on that island. I don't know why though. I was alone for 379 days, all by myself with nothing but myself to talk to. I don't want all these people talking to me, asking what it was like. What do they think it was like? Even if I wanted to tell them, I don't think I could. I don't think there's a word for how I felt, I felt too many things.
I sigh as I reach up and grab a pillow from the bed, setting it down next to me. I flick the light switch, turning the light off one last time as I slowly let my head hit the pillow. The bed sheet is wrapped around me, the duvet is too heavy and warm. I close my eyes, hoping sleep won't be hard as I'm so unused to all this luxury. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. Maybe the move to California will do me good.
My eyes are burning, dry because I can't remember the last time I blinked. I'm just staring at this wall, not even trying to stop the tears that are building up. I think about Harry, and how I miss him so much. I think about Pete and Liam too, and how I miss them the same. Tears slowly falling from my eyes as I remember Liam's body crashing against the rocks. The large, black rocks on that island. His face not even recognisable, his skin was blue from floating in the ocean for days. I felt my stomach churn as I remember his face, that was what scared me the most. He looked like a zombie and he smelt like one too. The only thing I could do was bury him, and that's where he is now. Lying beneath the sand on that island, all alone with just the waves for company.
The large leather king size bed is on my left, my head leaning on the brown leather. The thought of sleeping on it isn't appealing, suprisingly. I'd come too acustom to sleeping on sand, sleeping on anything I could find. Anything that was swept up on the shore. I look over at the gas fire, well, if you could call it a fire. It's burning slowly as I'm still flicking the lights on and off, I don't know why I'm doing it but it feels nice. It's comforting that I have control over something as small as a light switch after having control over nothing at all.
There's a beeping noise coming from somewhere out in the hall. There's noise coming from the street, lots of noise. I've never noticed it until now how loud New York is, even though I was 23 stories up in a 5 star hotel. I don't wanna be here, a part of me wants to be back on that island. I don't know why though. I was alone for 379 days, all by myself with nothing but myself to talk to. I don't want all these people talking to me, asking what it was like. What do they think it was like? Even if I wanted to tell them, I don't think I could. I don't think there's a word for how I felt, I felt too many things.
I sigh as I reach up and grab a pillow from the bed, setting it down next to me. I flick the light switch, turning the light off one last time as I slowly let my head hit the pillow. The bed sheet is wrapped around me, the duvet is too heavy and warm. I close my eyes, hoping sleep won't be hard as I'm so unused to all this luxury. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. Maybe the move to California will do me good.