Page 66 of 912321

I frown. “You’re stopping me for nothing?” I feel a slight movement, and then, as he passes, his fingers brush against my wrist. The contact is so light I could almost believe I imagined it. I freeze for a fraction of a second, but he doesn’t; he steps aside immediately.

“Good night Miss Vitelli,” he says as he walks ahead of me, like nothing had happened.

And I reply stupidly, “Good night, Mister Caldwell.” Then walk away.

It’s late.

Past midnight, and I already know I’m not going to sleep.

*****

Play - Fade into you by Mazzy Star

The moonlight flitters through the curtain when I unlock the door. I step inside, and close it behind me carefully, not wanting to wake up Blue.

But it doesn’t work judging by the way he lifts his head from the corner of my bed, blinking at me with a slow, offended expression.

“Sorry,” I whisper as he stares at me before settling back down.

I smile despite myself walking toward my desk and open the drawer where I keep my earphones and cigarettes.

But something else is here. My flask.

I don’t even remember putting it there, and maybe that’s the saddest part, how easily my hands know where to go.

I keep looking at it, sitting there among unfinished sketches.

Close the drawer, Reya.

The thought arrives too late, because my fingers are already wrapped around the metal. It’s cold in my hand, and light.

I sit down beside Blue and he immediately comes closer against my leg, I run my fingers through his fur over and over until his eyes begin to close again.

“You’re a lucky cat, Blue, do you know that?” I say. “You don’t have to think so much.”

I lean down, pressing a kiss to his head and talk again, “Stay asleep, baby.”

And he does.

I take the flask, the sketchbook, cigarettes and earphones and get out again.

One sip of vodka, then a second, then a third, but still, I keep walking until the edge of the cliff appears.

The fresh and salty ocean air fills my lungs as I sit on the grassy area, pull the hood over my head and lay on top of the damp soil.

I pull out the pack of cigarettes, and let one rest between my lips, my fingers finding the small lighter I keep tucked away inside.

The flame flickers in the darkness before catching, and I take a slow drag, letting the smoke settle deep in my chest before I release it free again.

I glance upwards, looking at the night sky, and wonder if the myth is true. The one about loved ones looking at you from above. I wonder if she can see me.

Would she know I’m still trying? Or would she be disappointed in the person I became.

Look at the mess you made me.

Look at what you turned me into.

Bitter thoughts cloud my mind as I think about her.