AllFreeNovel
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I dart out of the wing. Stopping in the kitchen, I grab a bottle of whiskey from the pantry and a glass. My vision darkens as the memories take over. But I make it to my room.
Sitting down on my bed, I clutch the bags close to my chest.
I don't need them. I don't need to go down that road.
Dirty.
I close my eyes, cringing as the voices grow louder.
Whore.
My hands shake as tears leak from my eyes. It needs to stop. The voices need to stop. I try to breathe, sterile air clogs in my throat.
Shoving all of the bags into my nightstand, I open the bottle of whiskey and pour two shots into the glass. The amber liquid burns my throat as I down it all in one gulp.
By my fifth glass, the voices still scream inside my head, the memories suffocating me. My chest still aches from the lack of air, like breathing with a bag over my head.
I nearly spill the bottle as I pour another glass. Picking it up, I stall halfway to my mouth.
Don't you want to be a good girl?
Another fat tear trails down my cheek. It falls from my chin, splashing into the glass. A few drops of whiskey slosh out of my cup as I slam it on the nightstand. With shaking hands, I open the drawer on the nightstand and pull out a bag.
One bag.
Only one.
Just today. Just to get rid of the nightmares. Just to quiet the voices. Just to breathe.
Grabbing a razor blade from the bathroom first-aid kit, I slit the bag, then divide it into three thin lines. I dig into my purse until I find a dollar bill and roll it up. Kneeling in front of the dresser, I snort one entire line, then chase it with the contents of my glass.
My nose burns. My throat burns. But after chasing the third line with the amber liquid, everything inside my head blurs.
The voices mix, everything’s jumbled. My head spins.
I fall back onto my bed.
The white takes over.
Blank, empty white.
* * *
“You missed dinner, again.”
Blinking, I pry my eyes open.
White.
My bedroom.
A blank fog fills my head, the darkness just on the edges of my mind, slowly creeping in.Several days have passed, but they’ve all been a blur.
I blink again, then sit up.
The nightstand. Crap. My breath chokes in my throat as I jerk my head that way.
I let out a ragged sigh at the clean surface containing only a clock displaying three after nine before turning back toward Damien.
