A Faint Illusion

Perhaps I was overreacting. The feeling in my stomach sunk as Tom wrapped his arm around my redhead classmate. It sunk fast. My cheeks burned, my knees felt weak. It was hard to look away. 
So hard to look away
I wanted to laugh, cry, melt, burn, die. 

"C'mon Pansy, let's go somewhere else." Elizabeth whispered, grabbing my forearm and pulling me away from the couple. It was like a car wreck, that feeling of not being able to tear your eyes away. 

"He's doing it to hurt you. You have been avoiding him." she added quietly handing me the cliched cup. "We are here to see our friends, to mingle and enjoy Halloween." We clanked our plastic cups together. They didn't make much of a noise but we shrugged and took a gulp. 

It only took two hours, nine minutes and thirty-eight seconds before Tom took out his bag of weed. Every squealed and swarmed him. 

But me and Jona. 

"Martha Jones?" Jona teased as I watched my flatmate  join the room of children giving in to the influence. 

"Take me home." I slurred to Jona collapsing in his arms. 
"Just get me away from here. Away from them."

I wish your smile could see me

&&&&

Perhaps hiding wasn't the best option. Perhaps letting the smallest amount of things bother me when in fact the relationship with such a man seized to exist. It was all in my imagination. All of it. The causes and the effects. The bridge. The icy water. The happiness. The smiles. The laughs. The passion. The sex. What if all of it didn't exist. What if I didn't exist? Would I be causing less of an issue than I already was. All of these inclusive thoughts were swarming around in my abyss of a mind. It was dark. Darker than most. Stranger than most.

Inhale. Exhale.
Exhale. Inhale?

I've spent three weeks isolating myself from anything and everything. Jona took me home, and I refused to leave. I neglected classes. I neglected everything and everyone, and time progressed I forgot what it was like to have friends, what it was like to have some sort of relationship, and became completely and utterly devoured into myself. I lived in my head. I spoke to myself.
I was quite good company.

This idea scared me though. I was starting to sound like my mother. Running from problems I could of potentially created.

When are we going to talk the text from nearly a month said. It lingered around on my screen in a more obnoxious tone then that Cranberries song.

Never. I finally replied.

Never.