Page 48 of Against All Odds

I cringed. “That sounds like the kind of thing I would say as a joke.”

“Yes, you and I know this – but Marya doesn’t know you that well. I’ve told you before, people often can’t tell whether you’re joking or being serious – it’s just the way your face works.” He leaned back in his chair. “Then, you disappeared – one moment you were there, I turned trying to reassure a very upset Marya, and when I turned my head back, you were gone. No one had seen you leave.”

Or maybe no one cared, since no one bothered to go after me.

“Kyle, please tell me Marya and you will be okay.” I reached out to grab his hands, but stopped myself at the last moment. “Please tell me I didn’t ruin something beautiful.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. She’s a little annoyed, but we had a long conversation yesterday, and I’m sure we’ll get past this.” He sat up straighter, eyes piercing into mine. “But you and I won’t. Because I’m done with you, Raya, I’m sorry.”

One more glass splinter, and my heart shattered into bleeding pieces. I didn’t think I had anything left to lose, didn’t think my only friend would leave me, too.

“What?” The word came out whispered, my unseeing eyes barely registering his conflicted expression.

“I’m sorry.” His mouth twitched as he averted his eyes. “But we’ve been through this too many times, and I just can’t do it anymore. I’ve tried to be patient with you and give you the benefit of the doubt, over and over again, but you just don’t change – and now it’s causing friction in my other relationships. That’s where I have to draw the line. I always thought it was that group’s influence, because let’s be honest, you and I both know those weren’t the healthiest dynamics – but now we were surrounded by good people who literally had nothing bad in mind, and you still lose it.” He took a deep breath. “I care about you, but I won’t let you drag me down the drain with you.”

My eyelids trembled, as did my vision. Blood gushed in my ears as I could no longer focus, allowing my eyes to zoom out.

“Okay,” I whispered. My hands dropped on the table as if their ropes had been cut from above. I no longer had the energy to argue, to try and convince him to stay – because what was the point? He was right, and so was Seren. It was the same every time. I couldn’t stick to one glass, couldn’t even stay off the alcohol in a mildly uncomfortable social situation – and every time, one glass ended in a blackout disaster.

“Okay?” He frowned, then shook his head. “I have to go to class.” He got up slowly, his concerned gaze resting on me for a moment. “Take care, Raya.”

I gave a short nod.

He turned to walk off, and I stayed there as the students around me got up as well. I stayed there for a long time as the canteen emptied out, and emptier was the aching hole in my chest, bleeding out what was left of my heart. Forced to face reality, without alcohol and drugs, without friends or toxic women to escape to, all that was left was emptiness.

They say that sometimes things need to end for something new to grow. But from experience, I knew better, because good things can only grow when they’re nurtured and cared for in a friendly garden. Nothing good had ever grown in the void that was my soul.

Alone in my room, the curtains closed, I stared at the numerous pills in my open palms. I didn’t know all their names, but I knew Pascal had divided his stash into uppers and downers. These all came from the ‘downer’ stash.

Finding out how many pills it took to die was tricky. Google, as well as the AI tools that started to replace search engines more and more, all came with built-in guardrails and suicide helplines – but they were easy to bypass if you knew how to do it.

Helplines. It would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic. As if someone could talk me out of a lifetime of pain. What would a conversation do? Convince me not to die today, because people loved me and life had meaning? As if I wouldn’t wake up tomorrow and feel exactly as I did now. I wanted to die more often than I wanted to live, but most of my life, I’d been able to distract myself. I’d always known the emptiness would consume me one day – I’d just been putting it off. It was always there, lurking in the shadows, trying to catch me in a moment of weakness – just like the demon that haunted my dreams. But the emptiness was worse, because you can’t wake up from emptiness. You can’t take away the core of who you are. All you can do is numb it until you run out of ways to numb it. Until the cure becomes the cause. Until your coping mechanisms push away everyone you love.

Seren told me I should love myself, but what was there to love, when even she was only trying to save her own soul? She had said it loud and clear when her anger forced the truth from her lips: if she couldn’t save her soul, there was no reason for her to stick around. So it had all been fake, the connection we shared – just another illusion my love-starved mind had conjured up.

My eyes burned, but I had no tears left.

I was not afraid of death. I’d always known that if there was an afterlife, I would not make it to Heaven, but I couldn’t imagine a pain worse than life. It was the dying itself that scared me. This combination of substances should promise a smooth, painless transition, but was a transition between realms ever painless? I was already researching suicide methods when I was a teen, and a painless death was never guaranteed. As if our bodies tried to deny what our minds already knew: that maybe there was simply no place for me in this world.

I’d debated writing letters, but to whom? I doubt my mom would care enough, and my dad and I hardly knew how to communicate during our sparse phone calls. Kyle? The last thing he needed was to be consumed with guilt, as if my suicide were his fault. As if I wasn’t already drowning before he came along to try and keep my head above the water. A noble, yet pointless effort, like teaching a bird with broken wings to fly.

I glanced down at the pills, then back up at my mirror image.

Seren had been right about that, too, I thought bitterly. I wanted to be dead without having to die. I wished I could just get it over with, cross over to the other side without having to actually take these damned pills. But unfortunately, life wouldn’t grant me such a mercy.

But what was the alternative? Staying alive for fifty more years of wearing a mask, pretending to love life as others seemed to do so effortlessly? What was the point of it all?

I took a deep breath and stared down at the pills as if my answer lay in them.

Before I could make a decision, drowsiness wrapped around me like soft, feathered wings. My eyelids fluttered, suddenly struggling to focus.

And I realized, with a shock, I had felt this way before. My memories of the worst night of my life hit me like a wave. When I’d begged the supernatural to show me I wasn’t alone, she had answered.

And as my eyes rolled back into their sockets and peace gently laid my body down, I knew it was her.

Chapter 22.

Raya