70. An Unhealthy obsession.

Sofia.

It had been two weeks since I was sent way from Ferrari pack and also sacked from being the kids’ tutor, it has also been that exact weeks since I last slept.

I looked in the mirror and hardly recognized myself anymore. My face was now gaunt, my cheeks sunken in, and my eyes were hollow. My hair was brittle and lifeless, falling out in clumps. My body was skeletal and sagged, with no energy to keep myself upright. I had lost so much weight since he walked me out of his life. I could barely eat or sleep. I spent my days obsessing over him, replaying our brief interactions in my mind, trying to decipher every word he said, every gesture he made.

And this was all because of him. The alpha werewolf who did not even know about my feelings for him. The man who I do not exist to as anything other than his late wife’s best friend and children’s tutor. The man I had been in love with for years, but who had never feel the same way about me. He did not know how I feel about him, how I ached for him. He simply moved on, living his life without a second thought for me.

The was sure that kids did not cry for me like they did for Elena, they definitely did not refuse to eat unless I was brought back, I was also sure that majority of the pack did not care about my absence, about how I had been sent away so easily despite my years of service to the pack. I wondered over and over if Deangelo was even thinking about me at all, even if it was just for ten measly seconds.

I could not take the pain of being unnoticed and unimportant anymore. It was like a constant ache in my chest. And now, I had even started to harm myself. It seemed to be the only way I could cope with the pain. The only way I could feel anything at all. I cut myself with razors, watching the blood trickle down my arms. I burned myself with cigarettes, feeling the sting of the flames against my skin. It was a sick and twisted way to deal with my emotions, but it had always been the only thing that helps.

And the insomnia... it had been so unbearable. Every night, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him. Wondering what he was doing, who he was with, if he was thinking about me too. But I know that he was not. He does not even care if I'm alive or dead, never bothered to call to even check up on me, what had I done so bad?

I kept having dreams, some of them were very vivid where I see Deangelo coming to take me from my room and asking me to marry him. Dreams like that make me very happy. However, my mind also tortured me regularly with images of Deangelo and Elena getting married instead.

I heard the door open and my room mate, Sarah's footsteps as she entered our apartment. She called out my name, but I did not answer. I was sitting in the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I look like a different person, a ghost of who I used to be. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I barely registered when Sarah knocked on the bathroom door.

"Sofia, are you in there?" Sarah's voice was soft, concerned. "Can you open the door, please?"

I did not move. I did want to see her, I did not want to face the reality of what I had become. But Sarah was persistent. She kept knocking, calling my name, until finally I could not ignore her anymore. I slowly got up and opened the door. Sarah's eyes widened as she took in my appearance. "Oh my god, Sofia," she whispered. "What's happened to you?"

I did not answer. I couldn’t. The pain was too much, too overwhelming. I just wanted to disappear, to curl up and forget everything. I could hear her voice in the background, but I could not really focus on what she was saying. My mind was hazy, clouded by the pain and exhaustion that have taken over my body.

"Sofia, please talk to me," Sarah pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. "Your obsession with Deangelo is not normal at all. You're hurting yourself, and you're not sleeping. I'm scared for you." I tried to shrug it off, to convince her that I'm fine, that everything will be okay. But even I knew that it was a lie. I was not fine. I was far from it. "I just can't stop thinking about him," I mumbled, barely able to form the words. "I can't stop imagining what it would be like to be with him, to touch him, to feel his arms around me."

Sarah took my hand, her touch gentle and reassuring. "I know it's hard, Sofia. But you have to let him go. He doesn't want you. He doesn't even know about your feelings for him. You're only hurting yourself and you need to come to terms with this fact before it eats you up completely."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back, not wanting to let them fall. "I know," I whisper. "But it's like I can't help it. He's like a drug, an addiction that I can't shake."

Sarah sighed, but her grip on my hand never faltered. ""I'm going to call a clinic. You need to go there and get some help. This isn't healthy, and I can't just stand by and watch you hurt yourself like this." I didn't resist as Sarah made the call.

She called the clinic and they sent an ambulance to take me away. However, as soon as we got to the clinic and I realized that it was a psych ward, I had a mental breakdown as I stood up and started screaming that I was not in any way crazy and that I didn't belong wherever that they planned to take me to. The other patients were frightened and the staff had to restrain me. I was placed in a padded cell, where I spent the next few days and kept getting medications to help me sleep. However, I started to get nightmares instead, and I would often wake up screaming. My condition was deteriorating rapidly, and I was placed on suicide watch.

Sarah visited me every day, feeling guilty for what she had done but I refused to see her for daring to make it up that I was mad, she had ruined my plans of thinking up another way to infiltrate the Ferrari pack and get my man. I was supposed to be making all of that arrangement and now, it seemed impossible because I was now locked up in here with mad people. This was all her fault.

I laid on the sterile white sheets of my hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The hospital was a bleak and frightening place. I constantly felt like I was in a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. I screamed and raged against the nurses, insisting that I wasn't crazy, but no one listened to me.

The next few days were a blur of doctors, nurses, and medication. I felt like a prisoner, trapped in a place where everyone thought I was crazy.