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I could hear her. I could feel her hands on my face. Her breath on my cheek. But I just… I couldn’t fucking focus.
“What did you take?” Her voice was in my ear again. “I know you’re drunk, and I can smell the weed off you, but there’s more, isn’t there? What was it? What did they give you?”
I couldn’t answer her. Because I couldn’t remember what I’d taken. I didn’t even know where I was. Hell, my lips didn’t feel like they were working.
I was coming down from a high, crashing hard and fast. Shivering violently, I tried to curl up and die. Maybe if I held my breath, the pain would stop. My heart would just give up.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, wincing when her disappointment rained down on me like verbal bullets. “Please don’t hate me.”
Hemorrhaging vomit and bile, I battled with the nausea attacking my senses, while desperately trying to survive the agonizing burning sensation flushing through my system.
Don’t hate me.
I hate me.
I hate me.
I hate me.
______________________
As the fog in my mind lifted, and I slowly registered my surroundings, I realized that I was bollocks naked in Johnny Kavanagh’s bathroom, with his creepy bastard of a flanker lifting me out of the shower.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I snarled, staggering away from him, only to collapse on my ass in a heap.
They were talking to me, fucking shouting at me, but I couldn’t make out a word of it. I knew that I was responding because my lips were moving, but I had no fucking clue of what was coming out of my mouth. It was a vulnerable position to be in, to be so unhinged that I was unable to control the words coming out of my mouth.
Everything was so intense.
Everything hurt.
Body racked with tremors, I tried to control my breathing as flashbacks of the past two weeks slowly came back to me.
Dad.
Shannon.
Molloy.
Mam.
Darren!
Shane.
Pain.
Pain.
Fucking pain.
Repressing the urge to scream, I clutched my head in my hands and tried to stop the room from spinning. The pain between my eyes was so severe it made me feel faint. I could hear the Dub giving me shit, talking down to me like I was a piece of shit, and he was right. I absolutely was.
He loves your sister, my brain told me through the fog and the withdrawals. She’s not on her own anymore.
Mind reeling, I tried to piece together everything he was saying with the events that had happened, but my fucked-up mind wasn’t complying. My tongue was spewing poison, giving away too many family secrets to this lad, but I wasn’t in control anymore. I’d lost myself somewhere along the way.
All I could remember was Shannon slumped on that kitchen floor and the blood coming out of her mouth.
