Page 25 of The Bitter Words

I swim in that realization while I get ready for bed. I dig into my skin as I try to fall asleep, but the cocaine in my system has me wired. The alcohol in my blood isn’t helping either.

I mosey into my closet and find my stash. My heart aches and I long for Callum.

But how can he want me after what I did? It was my fault I got pregnant. Therefore, I’m the cause of Callum’s loss.

My miscarriage was so agonizing for him, he etched the memory of the baby on his back, forever there to remind him of what I couldn’t keep safe.

I need something to make my brain shut off, something togive me relief from the never-ending emptiness I’m responsible for. I get out some painkillers and two of my anxiety pills, hoping to end the misery of my thoughts.

These will do the trick. I slam them down and text Callum as I wait for them to hit.

Me:I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It should’ve been her, not me. If I didn’t do what I did?—

My vision gets blurry. I accidentally hit the send button. I type out another one, trying to finish my sentence.

Me:If she were here, maybe he would be too. You could’ve had her instead. I’m just the substitute. Always second best. I’m sorry I lost him.

The message goes out and my heartbeat slows. I feel strange, like I’m leaving my body. Everything goes black.

Chapter Six

CALLUM/CASH

Then

Sleepless Veins & The Ghost of Someone Not Yet Gone

The line between dream and omen blurs…and I can’t tell if I’m waking up or already too late.

My pops pats me on the back. “Don’t let her go, son.”

I shoot up in a cold sweat. The nightmare I was having still runs on the screen of my mind. My blood races. That seemed too real.

I slide out of the bunkbed and guide myself down the dark aisle to the bathroom while trying to get my bearings. We’re finally on our way back to LA after playing our last show and we can’t get there fast enough.

My dream plays over in my head as I take a leak. My pops was pointing at Livianna from the stage. He was up there next to me, showing her to me as she was leaving the building.

It felt like she was never coming back. I shudder. Something about the scene scares the living shit out of me.

I can’t shake the feeling I’m supposed to pay attention tothe meaning behind it. While I wash my hands, Livianna’s ghostly face stares at me as if she’s right in front of me.

My stomach churns and spits out bile. With a cold shiver creeping over me, I go out to the common area where my phone’s charging.

I slide into the seat and get my phone. There are a couple of messages from Livianna on my screen. With my hands nearly trembling for reasons I can’t explain, I open the texts and read them.

I have no idea what she’s talking about. What did she do and how did she hurt me?

She must have sent these within the last couple of hours because I was up, hoping she would FaceTime me once she got home. After getting tired of waiting, I went to bed.

I continue reading. The last sentence stops my heart.I’m sorry I lost him.

Fuck!

She’s spiraling in her head again. What if she’s cut her wrists and no one is there to make sure she’s okay?

Perspiration trickles down my back and my pulse accelerates. The same strange icy feeling I got when I found out my pops was dead spiders through my limbs.

I hit the call button, shaking. It rings, then goes to voicemail. I try again. The same thing happens. My stomach fills with concrete and acid crawls up my throat.