Page 51 of Against All Odds

“Alright.” She nodded, to my relief – though her next words were a punch in the gut. “I think you should get help for your addictive tendencies. Professional help, I mean – something I can’t provide.”

For a moment, I stayed silent, letting the words sink in. I knew they were the truth – I had known for a long time, but as long as no one spoke them out loud, I could push it down.

“But I’m not an addict. It’s not like I’m drinking every day.” Once I spoke the words, I realized I was trying to convince myself more than her.

“I know, but we also both know that when you start, you can’t stop – and it often ends in disaster. Do you want to live like that?”

“You want me to go to rehab?” Swallowing my pride, I glanced back up at her. I told her I could handle the truth; now I had to prove it. If she wanted me to go to rehab, I would. I would do anything she told me to do, because right now, I trusted her to know what was best for me more than I trusted myself.

“I’m not sure if rehab is what you need.” She hesitated, putting her finger to her chin. “Unfortunately, the celestial library holds many of the Universe’s secrets, but not much about human addictions. But—”

“What is this celestial library you keep talking about?” I interrupted. “Is that a place we can visit next?”

“The living can’t – well, actually, maybe you could. But that’s for another day.” Seren pressed her lips together to hide her smile. “I’m really no expert on this, okay, and I won’t give you misleading advice. I think it’s best you talk to your GP about this. They can direct you to the appropriate help, because I don’t think your substance misuse in itself is the problem. It’s a symptom, but not the cause. The cause is what you’re running from.” She paused, her pale blue eyes piercing into mine. “What are you running from, Raya?”

That was one question I was unprepared for. Its weight tightened around my chest like an iron grip, cutting off my air. Instinctively, I doubled over, clutching my chest as I fought the sudden claustrophobia – even though we were at the beach, surrounded by fresh air.

“The emptiness,” I whispered, barely audible.

Seren frowned. “What do you—”

“Finding distractions is all I’ve ever done.” I forced a weak smile – maybe it was the surreality of it all, being in a state between awake and asleep, that forced the truth from my chest without a filter, without pretense. “Because the moment I’m alone with my thoughts, all I feel is that everything is an illusion, and that none of it matters.”

She exhaled slowly. Seeing her frown made me want to switch topics again, but she didn’t seem concerned about me so much as my words.

“Don’t you feel the emptiness?” I asked her.

“I’ve known nothing else.” She flashed a humorless smile. “I’ve learned to embrace it.”

“How do you live like that?” My eyes met hers, and the defeat in them shocked me. It flooded me with the urge to wrap my arms around her and hold her until my embrace would relax the tension from her shoulders. It was ridiculous, pointless, and yet, persistent.

“I—I don’t know.” She frowned as if her own words surprised her. “I’m not sure if I ever have.” A pause. “Lived, I mean.”

A stubborn strand of hair slipped out from her bun. Instinctively, I reached out to wipe it away, but then I remembered how she’d flinched from me the other day.

My hand froze inches away from her face. Waiting for permission.

Seren’s eyes flickered to my hand, then back to my face. Her jaw clenched.

She didn’t stop me when I reached out to brush it behind her ear. I was careful not to touch her skin, not wanting to cross a line, but when I retreated my hand, I couldn’t help brushing the shell of her ear.

Seren breathed in sharply, and I realized she wasn’t used to being touched. Not like this, not gently. What was I thinking? She was captivating, brilliant, and fearless. Of course, she was used to being touched. She had to be. Surely, she’d had many lovers fighting to worship her in her mortal life. Wait, why the fuck was I thinking about this?

I realized she was looking at me oddly, questioning. I cleared my throat, blood rushing to my cheeks.

“I always thought being dead would provide the relief that life couldn’t.” I shuddered. “But what if it continues? That’s my worst fear. What if my body dies, but not my mind, and the suffering continues?”

“Listen to me very carefully,” she said, with a firmness that startled me. “I saw you with those pills, okay? I pulled you out of it before you could go through with it, but you will not do such a thing again. Not on my watch. I cannot stay with you if you ever try to kill yourself, let me be very clear about that.”

I flinched at her sudden sharp voice. “Then what am I supposed to do?” The words came out louder than intended. “Stay alive for forty, fifty more years – for what? For whom? How am I supposed to find meaning in this life when everything I care about doesn’t want me?” I angrily wiped the single tear away. “My only friend doesn’t want to see me anymore, and you…” My voice broke. “You’re not even really here. I’d rather be with you wherever you are. I don’t think life was meant for me – if it was, I wouldn’t feel so out of place everywhere I go.”

“Don’t say that,” she snapped – so fiercely, I shut my mouth. “I don’t want to hear it. It’s not your time yet. I get that your late teens and your early twenties are rough, but you won’t always feel like this, okay? Your brain hasn’t even fully developed—”

“Will you stop talking to me like I’m a child just because you’re a few years older?” I glared back at her. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t feel. You don’t understand the heaviness in my brain; most people don’t – so stop pretending you do.”

The waves of the previously so calm sea now flared up threateningly as we glared at each other. Even the seagulls changed their choir; their squeals now growing more erratic.

“Fuck.” I closed my eyes for a moment, mentally commanding the world to stabilize. “I’m going to wake up if I get too angry.”