My hand grips around the whiskey bottle. I gulp down its contents and push past the burn on my throat, hoping it relieves the one behind my eyes.
A sob sneaks through, causing me to choke on the amber liquid, and I send the bottle crashing against the wall.
Why the fuck has everything worth having in my life been tortured in some way or another?
My dad, the first man I loved, was killed. Now presumed murdered bythem.
My relationship with Saint the first time,theiractions the driving force of our breakup.
My best friends, dragged into whatever shitshow Louisa got herself into,themtaking the girls as collateral damage.
They’ve done it again.
They’ve finally taken something that can’t come back to me.
I don’t know how I’ve survived all this; I’ve died a multitude of deaths already.
Once when I was raped.
Twice when I saw my sister standing with the enemy, knowing the role she played and the knowledge she held.
Then a thousand times over when I lost him…for good.
Truthfully, I’d drag the knife along my throat and do each of them again, if it meant I got to experience his love one last time.
Maybe it’s me who was the masochist after all.
Placing the phone on the ground, I lock it. I rise to my feet, dragging them towards the ledge. Each step is heavy, like something rooting me to the ground, begging me to be careful.
The four story drop from the top of the Pit’s building doesn’t look as bad as it did when I stared up at it this morning. It looks appealing as the liquor warms my veins.
I close my eyes, letting out each painful breath.
All this pain would end for me if I took another step. The thoughts cause my stomach to spasm with the pain in my chest. I just…can’t.
It’s been five days since we left that forest; it’s a fucking miracle I even made it this far.
The first hour was the worst.
That numbness is a feeling you can’t quite describe, but the broad term explains it perfectly. I’ve never had a moment where you just feel…nothing.
No thoughts.
No words.
No feelings.
Until it hits you.
And you know that it’s there to stay.
I didn’t move from that spot in the woods, not even when the trees blended with the darkening sky, not even when Regina called my name with the rescue team.
A chime sounds behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see Saint’s phone light up. Frowning, I blink, and the screen is dark again.
Fucking liquor.
When I face back towards the woodland, I step both feet up. The chill wind blows through my hair, soothing the sting that burns around my eyes.
