It was moments like these when I realised some things were better perceived in the dark.

I was never the confrontational kind of person, because I never knew how to be one. And so confronting someone who particularly wasn't doing very well, was not something I saw myself doing. Instead, I would rather look up professional articles and blogs related to the side effects of certain medications, and as a result, everything began to click together.

Those were some high-potency anti-depressants, which I didn't know she was either prescribed for, or she had been taking at her own risk. 

The thought of someone dosing themselves with pills like that reminded me of Dad. He was undoubtedly obsessed with taking medicine to feel better just because he had this thought that he was physically sick, and needed treatment. The truth was, the doctors had kept denying any of his self-diagnosis diseases, which pushed him to the point of paying extra cash to get the medicines he wanted. 

Unsure of what to do, I kept my phone back on the glass slab of the nightstand and I numbingly stared up at the plain white ceiling of my room. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, but nothing that made sense. Shaking my head to myself, I picked up my phone again in sheer anxiety, spending countless hours just mindlessly searching and researching medications, for no particular reason. I had like over twenty-two tabs opened on my browser, that listed random information that I didn't even seem to pay attention to. I was looking for answers to questions I didn't even know. 

Frustratedly, I got off my bed, swinging my legs to the side, until my eyes fell on the reflection that stared back at me. Over-analysing the measurements of my body, and against the slightly fitting clothing I wore, I wasn't very pleased with what I saw. And to run away from something I didn't like, I would go to any length to change it. 

And that was when I scooped up back in my bed, and grabbed my phone, searching for a specific kind of medication. 

That stopped me in my tracks to browse further, as my curiosity led the way. I looked over the list, that suggested appetite suppressants, and it only made me more accustomed to buying it. I had set up a reminder on my phone to buy those after I'd saved some money, staying determined on changing myself.

The remainder of the stay, I spent reading more about weight loss treatments until I got bored and switched to my typical daily dose of Wattpad fanfictions.  It was until late evening that I was finally interrupted by a door knock. 

Huffing to myself in laziness, I hopped off the bed and stomped outside my room and towards the door. Opening it, revealed a distorted-looking Edward, partially guilty-looking for his uncalled presence, and partially relieved it was me who opened up. His very sight brimmed a jittery feeling in my stomach, as I panicked over how I was going to let him in. I had never had anyone come over to my house before, so this was definitely new. 

"I'm sorry for the short notice but I needed the jacket." He smiled guiltily, looking shaken. He was dressed in a plain white tee and blue trousers. He was such a fit-looking boy, unlike me who didn't even come close in comparison to him. His hair looked incredibly ruffled, probably due to too much pulling at it, and he smelled of cigarettes. 

"Don't be sorry. I know it was rude of me to even keep it," I shakily apologised. "Erm... I don't know if you're okay with it, but you can come in?" I asked awkwardly. 

Without another word, I hurriedly got into my room to grab the black fabric sprawled on my chair and handed it to him as he stood at the doorway of my bedroom. A little too out of my boundary of appropriation, but I didn't mind the intrusion, especially if it was him. He took the jacket from me wide-eyed, and the skin between our hands got reduced to an electrifying touch. I had half a mind to finally tell him how much I liked him but instantly stopped. I needed to get a grip and I was almost certain I was not the type of person he would ever feel the same way about. All he was doing was being nice and friendly and I did not want to take advantage of it by putting the one good thing I had, at risk.

He shrugged on the jacket and stuffed his hands in the pockets. "Well, thank you and I'll see you soon?"

"Sure," I nervously added, trying to wipe the paperwork mess off of my bed. It was the first time I had let him, or anyone for that matter, come into my room and I wanted it to be a bearable experience for him. Midway, a scrap of paper fell to his foot, that I didn't pay much mind to. I kept organising the bedroom, stacking the pages and diaries on my nightstand neatly. "You can always come around and I can help you with projects as well... If you want," I mindlessly added midway through my cleaning but didn't instantly get a response.

I looked back to find his eyes scanning a crumpled piece of paper, and he made eye contact with me again before he glanced back at the page. "My Elysian? The way you've worded the initials," he stated with an impressed smile taking over his face. "That's a beautiful piece of poetry,"

I felt my cheeks heat up, feeling anxious about him finding it out. "Hey, give it back,"

He gave me a knowing amused smile, before taking one last glimpse of it and returning it to me as I asked. "I didn't know you write poetry,"

I scoffed at myself in particular. "It's not even good so I don't know if you'd count it as that," I let my insecurities speak.

"Looks more than good to me," he complimented, as his tall frame leaned against the doorway.

"You're just saying it so I wouldn't be so insecure," I said again, sitting on the bed. 

"There's literally nothing you have, that you should be insecure about," he replied, a small frown marring his face. 

I looked back at the reflection of myself in the mirror and then back at him. "I don't know,"

"You know what." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I think you would love to see and work where I do,"

"I-" I shook my head, not knowing what to say. "I can't take any more advantage of you,"

"Michelle." He sighed. "It's all on me. You're not even asking -"

"I know but I also know that I'm just not a good fit for anywhere,"

He stared at me for a brief moment, before continuing, "Either way, I'll take you there, and you're going to love it I know that," I could feel my heart swell several notches at the way he spoke to me, but I chose to remain quiet instead of ruining the perfectly good moment.

Due to my nerves being all over the place, especially at the thought of Mum knowing I had a boy in my room, I decided to cut down on the conversation. After a while of our aimless banter, I walked him out of my embarrassingly messy home. "I'm just better off doing university work,"

"You're too determined to study for someone who's already doing well in class."

"I just don't want anyone to have the wrong impression of me." I shrugged truthfully, and Edward only frowned in response, not replying otherwise. It was true. I was too stuck up in making myself appear as a good person, and to pay whatever cost it required. 

I said my goodbye to him, and finally released a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding until now. I internally cursed at myself for letting him even see what I had written, and that particularly for him, and that he wasn't supposed to even see that but I was certain he was going to find it more humourous than anything else, and I only hoped he'd just shrug it off and not take it seriously.

Making my way into the kitchen grumpily, I heated some leftover pasta but the nervousness always seemed to replace my appetite, so after further contemplation, I made my way to the bedroom, empty-stomach. I stared at myself in the mirror for a while and realised that the most I could do to appear attractive to him, was to lose some extra weight, and I had already planned out my way for it since skipping food was not a good option for me anymore, it only made me more tired and dizzy. Not to mention almost embarrassing myself by passing out in front of him. 

I had to finally bring myself to admit I had feelings for him, feelings I was no longer able to bottle up. And I could tell that he knew that too. Dramatically sighing to myself, I sat on my bed, and retrieved my phone, smiling to myself just thinking about him. Clicking my phone open, revealed the medicine I had been looking for, which was then interrupted by a text.

A text from an unknown number.

I felt my heart stop for a moment there, not knowing what I was about to encounter. Gulping harshly, I clicked open the conversation with trembling fingers, that displayed the very words that read, "You still remember that I have your photos?"

And just with the way it was worded, my mind went back to him. This couldn't be, I thought to myself, my heart dangerously thumping in my chest by the thought of it. At that point, my stomach begun to physically hurt with anxiety, and my hands automatically clutched my stomach to ease myself. I looked around my room in paranoia and almost jumped at the notification of the second text.

I want you to listen to me carefully. If you tell this to anyone, just know it won't end well.