Hate That I Love You

You're the only one I have left...

I woke abruptly and tried too pull my body into a sitting position, but I couldn't move because I was gasping wildly for air. I felt like I was being smothered, I was sweating, and my body felt a chill even though its summer time. Wanting to calm myself I forced my breathing to slow down so I could sit up in my bed and tossed my legs over the side, but I still didn't have the energy to stand up. I brought my hands up to my face and cradled my forehead in my palms just wishing for it to stop. Josh's voice has been in my mind ever since that day, repeating continuously until I found some sort of distraction strong enough to make me forget it.

Momentarily.

Tears began to race down my cheeks as I sat there and started my daily routine of crying for not only Josh but myself as well. Its a pathetic way to begin everyday but I had no control over my mind when it was this early in the morning. When the need to cry finally vanished I stood from the bed and looked at my face in the mirror. Part two of my daily routine: Look at myself in the mirror and point out the things wrong with me.

I forgot to wipe off my makeup and its smeared all over my face, my eyes are red and puffy, my hair is tangled, I cry too much, I'm selfish for not wanting to help Josh. Everyday I come up with new things but I always end up with the last one being about how I'm selfish.

"Dianna! Get out of bed its time for breakfast." My mom's voice came through my door and filled me with warmth.

"Give me a minute." I called out after steadying my breath.

"You want to talk-" Mom cautioned, obviously planning on directing to conversation towards Josh.

"See you at breakfast." I blurted out so she wouldn't bring forth the wounds I was trying to hide.

My family is wonderful and I know that I'm lucky still have them all. My mom and dad are always trying to get me to open up about why I'm so moody nowadays but I refuse to talk about it. The last thing I need is to make my family think I'm despicable because I'm in love with my boyfriends cousin and I can't seem to shake that feeling.

I looked at my reflection one last time and ran from my room to the bathroom across the hall trying to avoid running into my mom. Once I reached the bathroom I twisted the lock and leaned against the door exhaling the breath I had been holding. Keeping eye contact with my face in the bathroom mirror I reached down towards one of the drawers under the sink and grabbed a tiny black bag. Slowly, I opened the bag and took out the razor within for part three of my daily routine. I watched my face morph from sadness to disgust as I dragged the blade against my skin creating what would become a part of my scar collection.

I gathered my razors and packed them away under the sink after I washed them all off. My eyes closed and for the first time since I woke up I stopped thinking about my problems. I stayed there in a daze until someone banged on the door and snapped me out of my first moment of happiness.

"Sis! Hurry up! Mom's starting to worry!" Julie's, my little sister, voice yelled at me through the door.

"Tell her not to worry."I mumbled.

Now that I was actually feeling a bit better, I turned on the sink and waited for the water to get warm. When it got to the perfect temperature I washed my arm and then I washed my face. With all the makeup gone off of my face I finally looked like my normal self except for the birds nest sitting on top of my head. I took out my hairbrush and spent a minute untangling my hair and then pulled it into a pony tail.

"Dianna! Hurry up! I need to go pee!" Jaime, one of the twins, called out.

"No! I need to pee first!" Jeremy, the other twin, yelled.

I smiled at the thought of them pushing each other around in the hallway and laughed as I walked out the door. They both plowed past me and wrestled with each other trying to through the other out of the room. I slipped back into my bedroom and locked the door behind me still chuckling at the raging war going on in front of the bathroom. I looked around my room and felt my moment of happiness begin to fade away as if it hadn't even existed.

"Time to go." I murmured, grabbing my bag and changed from my pajamas to jeans and a t-shirt in record time.

I walked to my window and climbed out of my room and worked my body in the tree-house my father built eleven years ago and began my escape. Once I got all the way into the tree-house I climbed down the ladder and ran as fast as I could. Summer time was my freedom and I had only one place in mind when it came to stop worrying about my troubles. The place that was the cause of all my problems. Matt's house.