He swore again and headed for the door. Before he opened it, he paused and turned around to face me. “I know what pain feels like, Lydia,” he said. “But this ain’t the way to fix it.”
I shrugged. “It’s my way.”
He didn’t say anything else. Just opened the door and walked out.
* * *
It’s three o’clock in the afternoon on a Monday, and I just popped my fourth pill of the day. The past week has gone by in a complete blur. Simone and Lani keep constantly checking on me, trying to help, trying to get me out of bed, trying to do anything to fix this…but nothing works, nothingtheycan do, at least. Thankfully, they can’t just stop their entire lives for me, so I get a break from their worrying while they’re in classes most days.
I know they think I’m just depressed, that this might be normal after what happened. Hell, Simone has watched this spiral happen more times than she can probably count over the years. But I don’t think she knows how deep I’ve actually fallen this time, how I have these new little friends now who help me get out of my head.
I usually just pop the pills; it’s easier that way, easier to hide. But after taking the last one and the thoughts only growing louder, I had no other option but to get the job done another way.
Sorry, my guy, this might hurt a little, but it’ll be worth it—well, for me at least.
I grab the thermos from beside my bed and roll it on top of the pills until they’re broken down. As soon as I snort the line, I can feel it. I lie back on the bed, the book I just used falling off my lap beside me.
Everything…starts to slow.
My thoughts. My breathing. Even the pain finally starts to fade, drifting far, far away. Not completely gone, just…distant. Like it’s still in the room with me, but I barely notice it. Like I could reach out and touch it if I really wanted to, but I don’t. Fuck, I really don’t. I don’t want anything to do with it.
I’m floating away…and not in the way people normally talk about with uppers—there’s no neon light show or trippy colors. Just this…warmth. Like I’m underwater, but I’m not drowning. Like my bones are made of clouds. I could lie here like this forever and be fine. There’s no ache in my chest. No tightness behind my eyes. No guilt. No grief. No anxiety. No memory of all the people who have hurt me. I don’t think I can even remembermyname at this point. It’s all just…static. Soft, gentle static humming in the back of my brain.
I feel nothing.
And that’s the best part.
I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here, could be five minutes, could be an hour. Doesn’t matter. Time isn’t real. My body feels like it’s melting into the bed, like I’m sinking deeper with every breath I take.
My limbs are heavy, and I love it. I love not caring. I love that nothing matters. I love that I don’t have to be anything for anyone, that I can just be nothing for a little while. If this is what peace feels like, I get why people never come back.
The scary thing is, I’m not scared. I’m not panicking. I’m not crying. I’m not wishing someone would come find me and ask if I’m okay. Because right now? I think I actually am. Or at least it’s easier to pretend like I am, which is close enough. Close enough to quiet the voice in my head that’s always screaming. Close enough to forget how hard it is to be alive sometimes.
My lips are numb, my hands tingle a little, and my mouth’s dry…but I can’t make myself care. My eyelids keep getting heavier and heavier, and a small part of me wonders if I’ll wake up from this or not. I can’t tell if that thought makes me nervous…or relieved.
“Lydia! What the fuck?”
Lani’s voice cuts through the high like a knife. I feel like I flinch, but I don’t think I actually move. I hear her footsteps getting closer, feel the shift in the bed as she kneels next to me.
“Lydia…” Her voice breaks this time. “What did you do?”
I try to open my mouth, try to tell her I’m fine. But my tongue feels like rubber, and my thoughts are soupy.
What kind of soup would…I be?
A smile tugs at the cornerof my mouth.
“I’m okay,” I mumble, but it barely comes out. “I just…I just needed to sleep. M’fine.”
“Fine?” she repeats, staring down at the powdered remains on the book next to me. I see her eyes flick to the card, to the rolled-up paper, to my rock bottom—Is this my rock bottom? I don’t know. I think I could still go a little further, don’t you think? Wait…are you real? Are you listening to my thoughts?
“Lydia, what thefuckdid you take?”
I shrug, not wanting to tell her. “Nothing, I’m okay,” I whisper. “You’re freaking out for nothing…just relax.”
“Relax?” Lani snaps. “You’re barely breathing. There are literaldrugson your bed!”
I feel her get up from the bed, and I turn my head to see that she’s started pacing.
