Hazel's pov

I ran.

Just like I did when things got bad at home. Just like I did when I shot Mark. Just like I did when Austin and I lost Jelly Bean. Just like Syd said I do. Just like my mom said I do.
I ran away from my problems.

I couldn't take it anymore. I just had to get out of there.

My emotions were running on an all time high, pounding on my skull and making the slivers in my heart crack even further. I couldn't breathe, and running wasn't helping either. But I kept pushing my feet to make sure I could get away from anyone who could of followed me... Like Austin.

I felt bad at first for leaving him there when he was trying to help, but I cracked. Everything was hurting and I felt like my world was slipping through the cracks of my fingers. I could feel myself falling apart and my mom coming just pushed me over the edge I've been dangling on for days. I have nothing left to hold myself up anymore. I have nothing left!

As I run I keep repeating what my mom said over and over again in my head.

You weren't even his daughter. You weren't even his daughter. You weren't even his daughter.

I wanted to scream. I'm going to scream.

Leave this town and your father alone. Don't fucking come back.

I stopped running, panting and huffing so hard my chest was rising at a fast speed. My head spins on my neck and there is a pain in my chest and my feet from my shoes.

You weren't even his daughter!

A groan of agony comes out of my mouth as I weave my fingers of my free hand into my hair and grip it tightly, pulling as I hunch over. My knees bend down and I go into a squatting position because I can't bare to stand anymore. I just stay down, yanking at my hair as I try so desperately to stop this pain I feel over my whole body.

When I do this, I feel the bottle of alcohol that still remains in my other hand, the bottle I stole from my mother. I feel my heart drop slightly, but then my mind screams again, loudly.

As I look at the alcohol in my hand, the yells and thoughts in my mind are so loud that I can't think rationally. I can only think of pain and sadness and confusion and anger. I can only think of my dad, gone. My mother, here. My sister.. Austin. Everything. Everything is replaying in my head like a fucking terrible power point of these past few days. Every goodbye, every broken hearted word, every pitiful look, every cry, every yell... Everything. I can't breathe.

I have nothing left, no motivation, no need to save myself anymore. I have nothing to stop me from lifting the alcohol up to my lips and pouring it down my throat like I do. I can't stop myself. I don't want to. I just need to make the pain go away, I need to numb it.

A noise of long lusted need comes out of my throat as I tip the bottle all the way up and down it's contents like I haven't in forever... Which I haven't. My body's craving was filled and it soaked up the alcohol like a sponge, the burning a feeling of numb pleasure in my throat.

As I do this, something in my mind cracks and I have to tear the bottle away to let out a choked sob. I feel so much, so much pain and sadness. So much regret and anger. I feel myself slipping. I feel I have nothing left good in this world. I feel that everyone I love leaves me. I don't want to feel anymore!

I bring the bottle back up to my lips, ruining all those weeks... months I spent banishing the thought alone away. I don't hesitate to take gulp after gulp, my head getting a bit dizzy and my stomach flipping from how fast I take in the poison.

Tears still roll down my face and I stop drinking to use the back of the hand holding the bottle to wipe under my eyes. I'm afraid someone, or Austin, may come and find me after I've been sitting in this same spot for so long. I'm afraid they'll see me like this, but I'm more afraid he'll take away the only thing I have left to numb the things inside of me.

I use my free hand to place on the gravel and push myself up. It takes me a minute to stand again and I'm sure I look like a mess.

I let the bottle dangle down in my hand as I look around where I am. I can't seem to find a care that I was sitting in the middle of a street, but do recognize where I am. I know where home is, I know where I need to go.

I bring the alcohol up to pour down my throat as I start to walk again. My steps are weak and my legs are tingling with numbness as I push myself on. I don't know what's happening with me, but I want to forget.

The more I keep walking, the more I drink. My vision starts to fuzz and my steps become crooked and sloppy. But I don't care, I can feel the train in my head fade away from the drug I've craved for so long. It's like being stranded on a desert and finding my first bottle of water in months. I'd probably be dead if that happened, but what am I now?

By the time I get to my house, my mind is just filled with numbing sensations, but I know one of those is pain. I wan't it gone. I want to drink more and never stop until I see black, that way the pain will stop.

I stand in front of my door, not exactly remembering the trip up the front porch, but not having much of an attention span to think about it. I reach to open it up and go inside, my foot getting caught on the small bump that separates the door and the stone outside. My body falls forwards a bit as I trip and I stumble to catch myself. Luckily, I manage not to collapse and hurt myself, using the side of the doorway to pull myself up and walk in my home that feels cold and empty.

Without my dad, it is not home. It's just bricks and a roof.

I go inside, not thinking to shut the door. I just stand in the middle of the hallway in front of it, the bottle dangling in my finger tips again.

I stare at my surroundings; the painted walls and wooded floors that hold familiarity, but no meaning anymore. I see old memories of my family running around the house, playing tag, or just running to go see my dad. I see all the times my dad would lean against the wall as I left for school or as someone came to the door.

All those memories are like ghosts now. I can feel them and picture them, but they are gone forever. My dad is gone forever.

I feel something inside of me ache to come out, but I just take another long drink, tears still pooled in my glossy eyes. I don't think as I stumble across the hallway into the first room on the left, pushing the door open.

I half expected to see my dad sitting in his chair, hunched over his desk and drawing something beautiful. I expect to see a cup of hot cocoa steaming next to him. I expect to have him so engrossed in his art that he doesn't notice I'm here until I make myself known. I expect him to turn around smile his smile that could make all my troubles go away and for him to usher me over. I can even hear him say my name.

But all I see is an empty chair, cold and never to be sat in again. It's pushed under the desk that has a few stacks of random drawings and pencils that are in a cup to the side. I see an old mug from weeks ago that sits there. I see his baseball cap hanging from the nob of one of the desk drawers.

But I don't see him there.

It's so eerie, so cold and empty. Everything was as he left it, but yet he wasn't here to come back to it. It felt wrong. It felt so wrong. Everything is so wrong. All of this is wrong!

A desperate cry comes out of my mouth as I feel something so strongly, so painfully, that I can't handle looking at this room anymore. I can't handle everything so perfectly similar when it's all fucked up now!

I reach for the closest thing next to me; a stack of sketches and random things on top of a tall stool that sits in the corner of the room, and shove all the papers off, flipping the stool over with a breathy cry. It bangs loudly against the floor, the sound echoing in my head and the actions making everything spin slightly.

I don't think another coherent thought as I feel myself fall apart. My body can't hold anything in anymore, not even the stuff the liquor repressed, and it's breaking down with my mind. Everything is just wrong! My dad's dead!

Tears fall out of my eyes as I start tearing the room apart. I can't handle this room anymore, I can't handle anything. I pull over small furniture, throw papers around, lash out at the momentous on the walls and tables and chuck them across the room. I sob and become a tornado in this room that once was my father's everything, but he will never come back to be here again.

It's all over! It's all fucking over.

When I have nothing left to throw or tip over or destroy, the old mug is the only thing I have left to watch shatter, just like I feel I am on the inside. My tears are dried up and everything inside me is just numb.

I back up against the nearest wall and once I hit it, I slide down until by butt collides with the floor. I bring my legs up to tuck against my chest, letting my eyes wander around the room I just destroyed. It looks like a tornado came in here and ruined everything.

I lean forwards to search around for the bottle of liquor that was lost in the mess along the way, spotting it resting against a flipped stool. I crawl over and grab it before returning to my position and wrapping my arms around myself.

I go to take another drink, but when I put the bottle to my lips, nothing comes out. I drank it all.

I slowly pull it away, looking at it. My stomach is tight and my head is fuzzy from how drunk I am, but I still feel realization come upon me.

But over everything, I feel numb. My mind can't form a thought besides how much everything hurts, how I just want to black out and stay that way until there can be a device to suck the pain out of me.

All I can do is stare at the wall across from me, my body slowly shutting down.

---

It felt like days that I spent staring, when in reality it was minutes..

An ice cold temperature had settled in the room because I left the door open, and because my dad wasn't here to warm it up. But I still sat still, the cold numbing me a bit more. Barely even a thought crossed my mind. I was shutting down. The alcohol in my veins is the only thing that is keeping me in this world.

"Hazel?" It's like background noise, fuzzy in the back of my head. "Hazel?" Again, like he's searching for his lost car keys, looking in every room and turning things upside down. But then he sees the door open.

I could sense Austin as he stood in the doorway of my dad's office. He didn't make a sound and froze as soon as he saw the disaster I made. It was quiet and he was horror stricken until he remembered he was looking for me. "Hazel?" He asked once more, stepping over papers to come inside.

I could tell the exact moment he found me because he froze again, and I could practically sense his mood shift.

I didn't move a muscle, just kept staring lifelessly at the wall as he came carefully over to me. "Hazel..." He squatted down next to me, careful to if I may freak out again, but got no reaction. "I...What..." he looked around the room, shocked, but then cut himself off when he saw something.

He reached across me to pick up the empty alcohol bottle, inspecting it with a sadly shocked face. He lifted his head up to look at me. He had no words.

I couldn't even feel regret or embarrassment, I was just too far gone.

"Haze.." He spoke sadly, his hand coming up as if he were to touch me, or brush hair behind my ears, but he stopped himself. I felt no heat come to my cheeks.. no nervous spark like I would have over summer, or maybe even before all this... I just was numb.

Austin let his hand fall back down and without a word, set the bottle he was holding down and stood up. He stood in front of me, covering my view of the wall and holding his hand out. Since I no longer had anything to look at, I looked right at it.

"Come on," he said lightly, wanting me to take his hand. I couldn't think of what to do so I just looked at him. I just wanted to stay here and sink into the floorboards, I don't want to take his hand. "Haze, please, let me help you."

My eyes traveled up to his, which were of course set right on me. I felt like he was seeing into my soul as he looked into mine, being able to pick me apart with his eyes. To get away from that, I looked back to his hand.

"Why?" I croak out through my scratchy throat.

"What?" He asks in confusion.

"Why?" I ask louder.

"Haze," is all he says and he reaches down to grab my hand. I am too drunk and have no way to stop him from helping me to stand, but when I get on my feet, I push him away from me harshly, making him stumble slightly back.

"Why are you helping me?!" he backs up, shocked at my random outburst. I don't know where it came from but my mind is gone and I can't do this anymore.

"Hazel," he says a little less gently this time, but just trying to get my to calm down.

"I don't want your help. I don't want it!" I say to him, my words slightly slurred.

"Hazel... I'm here," he says and that's where I lose it. I want him to fight me. I want him to leave me like before so I can have nothing! I lose everyone and they all eventually leave me so he might as well get it over with now! So I can stay here and let myself not care anymore so I can turn into nothing!

"Why?!" I start to lose it. I can't do this anymore, I can't play this game. "Why are you being nice to me, treating me like I'm your business?! Why are you here?! I'm not your girlfriend!" My words obviously hurt him, it shows on his face. He stays in silence, surprised. "Is it pity?!" I ask, screaming when he won't respond. "You feel bad for me so you feel obliged to wipe my ass for me?! Well you're not! You can go, you're free to leave! Just like you did before!"

Austin is hit, recoiling back a bit. It's a sensitive subject between us both but I won't fucking pretend like it didn't happen. Like he didn't leave me, like I didn't lose my baby. Everyone is eventually going to leave me. Everyone does.

But in the back of my head, I have a faint memory of all this tour. Not once has Austin not been there, even when we "hated" each other. When something questionable was happening, or I needed him, he was always, in a way, there. He's never not been here. He's never left me again.

"I'm not going to leave." Austin grumbles, trying to keep his cool even though he feels hurt.

"Why? I don't need you to sit here and give me your pity help!"

"That's not it. I'm not.."

"It is!" I cut him off and Austin's fist clench together. I'm pushing him. I know it, but I keep on it, getting closer in his face. "Just admit it, Austin! It's pity, that's all it is! You lost your mom so you think you know how I feel, but you don't!" I hit a low blow. "I'm not drowning in my tears or going numb or slitting my wrist, so just back off!" Quiet. I can't stop. "BACK OFF!" I shove at his chest, pushing him further. He's trying to hold back. "You fucking...! You're just doing this because of pit-"

"I'M DOING IT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU." He yells ten times louder than me, his face reddening and a vein popping out of the side of his neck. I'm stunned into silence, my jaw slack as I look at him, my hands falling down from his chest.

We both stand there, huffing from the argument and burning holes in the other with our eyes. I fail to come up with anything to say, I can't think of words to possibly put together. The silence is deafening, but then Austin spins on his heel and storms over to the door, slamming it behind him and taking my breath with him as he leaves..

I'm left here, getting hit by the quietness and loneliness of this room without him in it.

Notes

...:o

I hope this is okay..! Kinda feelin' iffy about it because I feel like I need to get back into the swing of all this drama and stuff! But I know what i want to do with this and there will be a loooot more Austin now that everything with her dad at home is being wrapped up! What do you guys think will happen? What do you want to happen?

Anyway, I miss talking to you all! How are you? How is your christmas (time) going? Let me know! You guys are the best<3 more updates sooon:)