AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I’m finally done, I look down. My hand, my clothes, hell, even my feet are covered in puke. Then the smell hits me, making the bile rise up my throat all over again.
Pushing off the nightstand, I somehow manage to stumble my way into the bathroom. My shoulder collides with the doorway, the pain shooting through me, but I ignore it as I fall onto the tiles just before I start throwing up all over again.
Sweat coats my body, making my clothes stick to my skin as I throw up for what feels like hours. Only when I think I’m done do I press my cheek against the toilet seat, not caring in the least how unhygienic it must be. It feels cool against my flushed cheeks, and I’ll take any little reprieve I can get. But it doesn’t last long because soon enough, I start to throw up again, or I would if there was anything left in my stomach. This way, I’m only retching to the point my vision turns blurry from the tears.
Why is this so damn hard?
I brush the back of my hand over my tear-stained face, pounding my fist against the toilet seat as more tears come.
Why can’t I just get a break?
Leaning against the bathtub, I let out a frustrated scream as my head falls back. I look down at my ruined clothes. I can’t stay like this.
Grabbing the zipper, I fight with it as I try to tug it down. Finally, the damn thing gives away, and I shove it off before struggling with the leggings. By the time I’m in my undies and a tank top, I’m breathing so hard you’d think I just ran a marathon.
“I can’t do this.” I try to clench my fingers into a fist, but even that’s too hard. “It’s just too much. Too hard.”
My eyes fall down on the camera I set on the tripod a few feet away. Although I didn’t get the exhibition I wanted, taking photos of shaving my head helped me deal with the pain and loss, so I kept on documenting everything I could.
I scoot closer to it, turning the camera on. I change a few settings, making sure it’s all set before I force myself to scramble to my feet.
Although I’d taken my clothes off, I could still smell the stench of the vomit on myself. I should wash up, but I know there is no way I’d be able to get myself into the shower. My gaze goes to the bathtub, throat constricting as the memories slam into me.
Gritting my teeth, I shove them back as I make my way to the bathtub and somehow find enough strength to get myself inside.
I let out a shaky breath as I turn on the faucet, selecting the hottest setting possible, but even that does little to chase away the chills.
I pull my legs to my chest, resting my chin against my knees. Tears fall down my face as I wait for the tub to fill.
“I hate you,” Prescott’s hand brushes against my cheek. “For making me fall in love with you.”
His face is exchanged for Dad’s as he walked away.“I can’t do this. It’s too hard.”
“J-Jade…”Mom’s face flashed in my mind as she was struggling to breathe.
“I can’t keep on hurting like this.”
I understood where Prescott was coming from.
I didn’t want to keep on hurting either.
Not any longer.
I lean my head back, blinking the tears away as I stare at the ceiling.
That other time I stared at the ceiling pops into my head, and this time I don’t have it in me to shove the memories away. Instead, I embrace them, letting them fill me, fill this empty hole inside my chest that keeps on getting bigger by the day.
The noises. The need to let out a scream so hard it would shatter glass. The stillness as I did just that, my pain swallowed by the water.
Why am I doing this? Why do I keep fighting?
It would be so easy to just let go.
To sink into that nothingness and let it swallow me whole.
Let it take away all this pain.
My body sinks lower into the tub.
