Nothing Is What It Use To Be (Austin Mahone Fan Fiction // Completed)

Part Ten: Personal Space

Part Ten: Personal Space

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Song For The Chapter:

Wings by Cimorelli

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-Celeste's Point Of View-

It was one of those days when I just didn't want to do anything. I had no motivation to get out of bed, I didn't want to get ready for the day, I didn't want to go out. I just didn't want.

I just stared at the wall that I was facing, looking at everything that was taped onto it. The weird movie posters, bands no one had ever heard of, and my "school spirit wall". It was a stupid wall my mom had dedicated to school memories, and anything related to it.

It had almost nothing on it, just a few class pictures, school decals, and a plaque. I payed attention to the smaller picture that I had covered with the curtain so long ago, and never bothered to unveil again. It was an old picture of Austin and I my mom had insisted was on the wall. For so long I tried to get rid of it, hide it, never see it again, but the only way of doing that would be to destroy it and I didn't have the courage to do it.

I closed my eyes and turned over the other way to avoid thinking of all that. I relaxed back in bed and wrapped the blanket around me tighter, and slid my hand underneath my pillow to grab my phone and headphones. I quickly typed in my passcode, and quickly clicked the first song I saw before shoving my phone back underneath my pillow.

Symphony X's music started playing through my headphones, and I shut my eyes to try and get more sleep. It was a Saturday morning and I had been awake since four in the morning thinking about pointless, unimportant things.

I was slowly falling asleep again, when someone loudly walked into my room and threw the blanket off of me, making me curl up into a ball and hide my face against the hoodie I had worn to sleep.

"Get up! We're leaving." Pricilla yelled as she opened the curtains and let the bright rays of sun into the room.

I groaned and rolled over so I was pressed up against the wall. "I'm not going," I muttered with my eyes closed, "I already told them, and they were okay with it."

"You're not going because you're always mad at the world, and no one wants someone like you at the weeding." She placed a hand on her hip and looked around my room in discust. "While we're gone, clean your room or something - its messy."

She walked towars the door, but quickly turned around before leaving, "Oh, and don't kill yourself or something - its would be a shame to come home, and have to spend money on prepering your funeral." Before I could reply something I'd most likely regret, she ran out the door and slammed the door shut behind her.

I turned over and faced the wall, drawing random patterns on the light brown colored paint. I wasn't going to let her stupid words get into my head; she often did this, and there was no way I was going to go back to the dark days. I cringed at the thought of them -- they were scary, and I refused to think the way I use to think years ago. There was no going back.

Before I could go into more depth with my thinking, the door opened again and I didn't bother to glance up. "Are you hear to tell me to not kill myself while you guys are gone?" I said dryly.

I hated how they didn't think of any of this as serious - they joked about it and could careless about the way people would really think of it.

The bed sunk down, and a hand was placed on my calf. "I just came to tell you we are about to head out. We'll call you when we get there, and we'll probably be back home by tomorrow afternoon." My mother explained. I looked up from the blanket to look her directly in the face when she spoke the next words. "Don't do anything stupid, your brother is next door if you need anything."