I was in my Industrial Organization and Public Policy class, and Professor Czowerr has been extrapolating on Jeffrey Church and Roger Ware's Industrial Organization: A Strategic Approach for the past hour, and I was just staring at him, wondering how come his face was moving like a lava lamp, and why is it that whenever he opened his mouth, bubbles would come out.
Bo, like me, was a Chemical and Biological Engineering major, who knowingly became a drug addict for research purposes. We had struck up a friendship when I was tasked to help facilitate freshman orientation as a member of the student government. He'd offered me a bum to his joint and I ended up getting absolutely shit faced after three pulls while he excitedly explained how he had invented a new marijuana strain that takes you on an explosive high in less than two minutes and called it The Challenger strain, after the tragic Space Shuttle Challenger disaster.
He had chosen Salvia Divinorum as the main subject of his thesis and has been experimenting with it for the past two years. He won't tell me what he did with it. He just said I should try it and tell him about the experience to add onto his research data. So far, it was one massive mindfuck.
I swayed back and forth, and around. It was like there was this kaleidoscope following my every move, distorting my vision into a million unidentifiable colors. I glanced around and all I could see were rainbow eyes floating around me. I looked back at Professor Czowerr again and he's turned into a blob on the floor, all slimy and shit. I focused on trying to get him back to normal again but he wouldn't. He was opening his mouth, talking and talking. I stared at his mouth and it turned into some sort of a disco light trying to vacuum me and I clutched my chair to steady myself.
"You seeing this shit?" I whispered to Tristan beside me.
"I don't fucking know what I'm seeing. Fuck. This is worse than acid. I told you we weren't supposed to smoke all of it."
I snickered. "It's fucking epic."
"I'm going to kill Bo."
I started swaying again, the kaleidoscopic eyes following my every move. I tried to hold my breath, thinking it was the body heat they were following or something. I closed my eyes, willing everything to go away, but then I saw stars shining right at me with the sun at its back. When the lecture ended and the other students started getting up, the figures became wilting crayons that slowly melted into massive puddles on the floor. I breathed in and out and slowly stood, the rainbow eyes now glaring at us. Tristan took a step and almost fell. He cursed under his breath and took a step again. I stared down at my feet. We were getting submerged in lava. I shook my head, trying to remember what the room looked like.
Finally, after painstakingly doing one step front and two steps back while clinging onto each other, we reached the door without getting burned by the lava. I cursed when I remembered I had a test for my next class.
* * *
Bo was lying on the floor with Tristan on top him, beating him up. Tristan and I ran to their apartment when the high had subsided. I was lying on his bed, sulking over my test. The words were just flying, literally flying off the paper when I tried to read them.
So much for my 4.0
"What the fuck did you put in that shit, huh?!" Tristan bit out.
"I can't say!"
Tristan hit him again. "I'm not going to ask again, Bo!"
"I can't say because I don't know! I was just putting shit together as I went, I forgot!"
Tristan gaped at him and started punching his stomach. "How many times do I have to tell you?! Do. Not. Use. Us. As. Your. Fucking. Guinea. Pigs!" he said as he hit him at every word.
"Stop! Stop!" Bo begged, trying to hold off Tristan's punches.
"Do you have any idea what Angel and I went through?"
Bo nodded, laughing. "Of course I do, man. I was the first one to experience it."
"Do you still have more, Bo?" I rolled to my side to look at him. He nodded. "How much for a gram?"
Bo and Tristan shared a look. "I'm not really selling," Bo said hesitantly, scratching his clean shaven head. "Plus, I'm still trying to figure out the formula to get the same high as the first batch."
I sat up. "What are you selling then?"
He grinned and staggered as he crawled on the floor, reaching for something under his bed. He dragged out a suitcase and opened it, looking like a kid opening a present on his birthday.
"I've been experimenting with 2C-B on the side, substituting a variety of derivatives and trying to spice up the high and shit since there is very little research conducted on humans, which is absolutely unacceptable in my opinion." He scoffed. "I have this pothead freshman who volunteered to be my subject and I would videotape his trip and the last intake he had was probably two weeks ago at 40 mg, and shit was real, man. Shit was fucking real!"
He put a pill on his palm and I sat beside him on the floor.
"Take one of these babies and I guarantee you two hundred heartbeats per minute and a trip like a nightmare before Christmas after watching a horror movie while unconsciously shitting yourself on the bed when you were eight." I reached for it but he moved his hand away. "That'd be fifty bucks a piece." I winced. "Sorry, just business."
I rolled my eyes. When it came to drugs, you couldn't get any passes with him. I gotta give it to him though. He's got good shit, better than the shit I used to sell in high school and that's saying something. I'd think twice before I even doubted his capability.
I rummaged through my bag for my wallet and counted the cash I had onhand. It was barely three hundred. He grinned, snatching the bills before putting five pills inside a small plastic packet and handing it to me.
"It will take longer to hit you if you take it orally, so I suggest you snort it."
I got to my feet and headed for the door. "Later."
Bo tried to call after me but I was already running out the door. I threw my bag on the passenger seat of my red Viper and pressed my foot on the accelerator, racing back to my apartment and stopping by a liquor store along the way.
"Jude? You home?"
I checked his room, grinning when it was empty. I ran to my room, putting on The Beatles' Abbey Road album on my record player and letting Paul McCartney's voice fill the room as he pleaded, "Oh! Darling. Please believe me. I'll never do you no harm."
I opened the bottle vodka and took a large swig, swaying along the music as I headed to the bathroom.
Oh! Darling, if you leave me
I'll never make it alone
Believe me when I beg you
Don't ever leave me alone
I grabbed the wooden chair by the sink and dropped to my knees in front of it. I started turning the pills into powder, spreading it on the chair and making three lines with my credit card.
"When you told me you didn't need me anymore. Well you know I nearly broke down and cried," I sang in a murmur as I rolled the dollar bill.
I took another swig before bending over to take a hit and winced as the powder burned my nostril. I straightened, grinning before quickly taking another hit. I leaned back for a moment, feeling the drug take into effect as it coursed through my fucking brain.
One more.
I took another swig of vodka and snorted the last line, licking off what was left of it from the chair. I stood, carrying the bottle with me as I got into the tub while humming.
When you told me you didn't need me anymore
Well you know I nearly broke down and cried
When you told me you didn't need me anymore
Well you know I nearly broke down and cried
I stripped my top off as I swayed my body along the music. I bent over to get my cigarettes from my bag and lit one up. I put a hand on my chest, digging my nails into the skin. Each beat of my heart felt like my chest was going to explode as my breathing quickened. My hands were shaking and I dropped the cigarette. I cursed as I put it in my mouth again, trying to steady my hands. I took a deep breath and let it out, my heart beating so fast I was sure it was trying to break out of me.
I lifted the bottle to my lips and gulped a huge sum of vodka, almost immediately it threatened to backfire. I held my breath, struggling to keep it down.
I felt something touch me. I turned and tried to grab it, its presence so intense I could almost feel it. I dropped the cigarette on my belly this time, burning my flesh. I cried out and put the cigarette back in my mouth, inhaling and blowing out the smoke through my nose. Then suddenly, a massive wave of nausea whipped past me, pushing me off my balance and I clutched the tub for support. I tried to stand but my legs were paralyzed. It felt so hot, too hot.
"Breathe," I told myself as I turned the faucet with my toes, trying to bring back a semblance of control over my limbs.
I could feel something touch my leg and I sat up. The jitters surged upward, lingering at my stomach, and then all at once it rushed to my head like a burst of electricity. I screamed as I fisted at my hair, wanting to make it stop but it just kept coming.
I could feel the presence again, more intense, pushing me down as if trying to possess me. I looked at the water and I saw something swimming towards me or maybe away from me. I tried to push it away but then it disappeared. I sighed in relief and lifted the bottle to my lips but then there it was again, crawling against the skin on my face and eating the inside of my mouth. I tried to fight it but my hold on reality was slipping and all I could feel was pain as something gripped the back of my neck, trying to rip my head off my shoulders.
I didn't know how long the high lasted but it felt an eternity before the pain wavered and in came the relief but I was too tired to even appreciate the uplifting feeling of it. It was like every ounce of strength that I had on my body was stripped from me and I had lost everything.
Something was wrong. I could feel myself falling and shaking. I turned my head and saw a faceless dark figure, slowly leaning towards me to take me in. I reached a hand out to touch the empty space in its head where the face should've been.
I gasped, feeling air on my fingers. I touched the dark figure again and hot air brushed my fingers. Suddenly, I felt light, like I was floating. The dark figure had taken me in and almost in one swift motion, I fell. I closed my eyes, my consciousness beginning to slip away.
* * *
I woke up in the darkness and I slowly pushed myself off the bed, my chest aching something bad. I looked down to see that my clothes were changed now. I frowned in confusion, trying to remember what happened. I must have blacked out.
I heard people cheering. I tried to process it and realized the television must have been on because there were far too many voices speaking all at once and the noise only made my head throb. I winced, my hands coming up to clutch either side of my head as I rubbed my temples to ease the pain, trying to get my senses to settle. Then, the realization finally hit me. Jude.
"Shit."
I got off the bed, swaying lightly on my feet as the nausea lingered but I shook it off as I walked over to my door. I took a peek outside, moving slowly towards the balcony so I wouldn't get his attention. He was sitting on the couch downstairs, watching a football game with his back facing me. I tiptoed to the stairs, intent on escaping the inevitable lecture he had prepared while I was unconcious. I made it to the banister noiselessly when, almost as if he could sniff me out, he turned his head to look at me, but it wasn't Jude.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry. Was the volume too loud?" Frederick asked, turning to fully face me.
I regarded him for a moment before shaking my head. "Where's Jude?"
I glanced around the place, squinting as the lights burned my sensitive vision.
"He's in the kitchen." He approached me and I shifted uncomfortably when he leaned in, bringing his face next to mine. "If you're planning on sneaking out, take me with you," he whispered. "He's really fucking pissed."
I've assumed he was. I should've barricaded the door. What a rookie fucking mistake.
"I'll take care of it," I said, pressing the heel of my palm between my eyes as the aching worsened. "You should go home."
He leaned back, raking his gaze over me. "Will you be okay?"
I snorted. "You're cute, you know that?"
I walked past him, patting his chest as I headed to the kitchen and found Jude talking on the phone. He glanced up, his expression darkening at the sight of me.
"I have to go. I'll call later. Bye." He put the phone down and folded his arms over his chest as he looked at me up and down. "You look like shit."
I didn't even doubt it because I sure as hell felt like shit.
"I'm-"
"We're not going to talk about this right now. We have a guest."
"I was just-"
"I'm so tired of this," he cut in, looking and sounding defeated. "If you want to die, please don't do it in front of me. I deserve better than that from you. Have some respect, Gel."
He pushed me out of his way and headed back to the living room while I quietly followed behind him.
"Pizza's on the way," he informed Frederick who just nodded in recognition but I didn't miss the wary look he gave my brother when he sat on the seat across from him.
I sighed and turned to go back to room. I wasn't in for a night of cold pretension. I'd rather sulk in my room and wait for my brother to give me his typical sermon.
"Hey, sit here," Frederick called while patting the space on the couch next to him. I shook my head. "Come on, don't be a stranger."
I glanced at Jude and he nodded his head once. I sighed again and went to sit next to Frederick. I folded my leg under the other and leaned the side of my head on the sofa, closing my eyes to avoid the glaring light of the TV. My head felt like it was getting pierced with a hundred needles while my body was beyond fatigued that I could barely form a fist.
For a while, I could hear them whispering and then I felt Frederick put a finger under my nose before cupping the back of my head, making me lean on his shoulder.
Were they checking if I was dead? Did they really expect that I would just die, right then and there? How encouraging.
Afterwards, they just went back to watching the game till the pizza arrived. Frederick nudged me and I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Jude handed me a plate of pizza. I took it without looking at him and just sat there staring at the plate. Frederick tried offering me a beer but Jude said no, well, shouted.
"You should eat," Frederick said as he took a bite of the pizza himself.
I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."
"Eat, Gel," Jude said. I lifted my head to look at him only to see him glaring at me. "Eat."
"I'm not-"
"Eat." He sighed, shaking his head weakly before turning away as if he couldn't bear looking at me. "If not for yourself, at least do it for me."
I frowned and tried to protest but Frederick cut me off. "It's really good, you know."
I sighed, looking down at my pizza. "It has pineapples on it."
"You don't like it?"
"Who likes it is the question."
He shrugged, holding his pizza out to me. "I do."
"Ugh. Take them then," I said in disgust.
He chuckled, picking off the pineapple bits. "Hawaiian pizza is the freaking bomb. Crucify me."
I snorted, lifting the pizza to my mouth and taking a small bite. I chewed it slowly, forcefully swallowing it down my throat. Jude and Frederick were still looking at me, watching me like I was some sort of weird creature.
"All of it, Angel," Jude said when I went back to staring at it again.
I grimaced but finished it quickly. He handed me a glass of water and I could feel my stomach rioting against what I had done.
"I'm gonna throw up," I said, trying hard to keep the bile down but it kept coming up.
I sprung to my feet, rushing to my bathroom and falling to my knees as I opened the toilet seat and started vomiting. Jude and Frederick came rushing in. My brother knelt behind me and held my hair back as I vomited even more, freezing when I saw blood in the mix of all the fluids. Too much blood for my comfort.
I sat back on the floor, wiping a hand over my mouth. I turned to the both of them and caught their eyes set on the disturbing fluid in the toilet bowl.
My brother looked beyond horrified as he paled. His gaze settled on me, slowly raking over my frame. When his eyes met mine, he glared. I stiffened.
"What did you take?" he hissed.
I swallowed hard, the taste of blood rich in my tongue. "2C-B."
"Who sold it to you?" he snarled, his voice eerily low as his glare darkened.
I pursed my lips, moving away. "I... I don't know."
"I said... who sold it to you?" he repeated, the anger reverberating in his voice and I drew back in fear.
I shook my head, fearing for Bo's life. "I don't remember."
"Name, gel!" he bit out, grabbing my arm when I tried to move further away.
"You're hurting me," I whimpered as I pulled at my arm, his grip so tight it threatened to cut off blood circulation.
He snapped out of his rage and immediately released his grip, his eyes wide and wary as he looked at my arm. It was already turning red.
He grimaced, screwing his eyes shut. "Get dressed." He got to his feet. "We're going to the hospital," he said before storming out of the bathroom.
Frederick helped me up and offered me a glass of water. I took it and said nothing as he led me out and sat me on the edge of my bed. When he moved to leave, I grabbed his hand.
"Please, don't let him," I pleaded, my voice breaking into a whisper.
He came to me and pulled me into a gentle embrace. "You'll be fine, Angel," he assured me but I shook my head. He pulled away, lifting a hand to brush my hair off my face as he offered a tight smile dripped with so much pity. "Get dressed, okay?"
I sighed and let him walk out of the room. After getting myself dressed, I heard them talking in the living room.
"I'm sorry about this, man. You really don't have to come with us," I heard my brother say.
"No, don't be. Just relax," Rick assured.
"I don't even know what to do anymore. It's just the same damn cycle every fucking day."
"Don't worry, she'll be fine. Just go easy on her."
"Yeah, I have been, now look what state she's in right now!"
I opened the door and they immediately stopped talking. Jude glanced at me before taking long strides to the door. Frederick came up the stairs, putting an arm around my shoulder and giving me it a reassuring squeeze as if it would help.
It was a few minutes past nine when we got to one of the two hospitals that Lastor International owned in New Jersey. I tried telling Jude to go to another hospital but he insisted that we shouldn't, Frederick too sided with him.
They rushed me to the ER, even though it was technically not an emergency. When a nurse told him to wait to be called, he pulled out his driver's license and started screaming at the nurse. Frederick got him to calm down and told him he'll do all the talking. The nurse apologized to us, and Jude to her, then asked me to fill up a form.
"So, Miss Lastor, what seems to be the problem?" Dr. Duncan asked, a plump man in his sixties and the night shift attending.
I shrugged. "Nothing, really. I'm okay."
Jude scoffed. "Okay? You were vomiting blood for crissake!"
Dr. Duncan put on a pair of thick spectacles and looked at him. "I'm sorry, but I'd rather Miss Lastor say that herself," he said politely.
Frederick pushed him back to sit on the chair beside him and nodded at the doctor to continue.
"So, Miss Lastor..." Dr. Duncan began as he read through the form that I had filled up. "Are you sexually active?"
"Pardon?"
He chuckled lightly at my reaction. "When was the last time you had sexual intercourse, Miss Lastor?" he rephrased.
"How's that relevant to my vomiting blood?"
Dr. Duncan cleared his throat and calmly stated, "It's just for basic information. I'd appreciate it if you answered it."
I pursed my lips as I thought back to when I had driven up to New York on Friday to attend some party with Andrea, and then woke up midday in bed with her and a bunch of other people, sore and bruised in all sorts of places.
I sighed. "About three days ago."
"Is it true that you vomited blood?" I nodded my head as a response. "Hm... did you eat anything that might have caused this?"
I shook my head. Other than the pizza, I hadn't eating anything at all today. Frederick and Jude didn't seem to be feeling anything since all three of us ate it and Frederick even ate pineapples with his pizza.
He nodded. "Do you smoke, Miss Lastor?" I nodded after a moment. "When did you start?"
"Thirteen, I guess."
"How many packs do you consume in a normal day?"
I sighed. "About one or two."
"Do you drink alcohol?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes."
"How often?"
I glanced at Jude, biting my lower lip as I dropped my gaze. "Daily."
Dr. Duncan raised his brows at that. "Is it to the point of excess, Miss Lastor?"
I sighed again, running a hand through my hair. "Most of the time."
He shook his head lightly in obvious disapproval. I wanted to hit him. "Aside from hangovers, have you been experiencing severe headaches lately?" I nodded at that. "Nausea?" I nodded again. "Do you have trouble sleeping?" I nodded. "Nosebleeds?"
"Not recently," I said as I leaned back on my seat, suddenly craving for a cigarette.
Jude cleared his throat, breaking the sequence of question and answer between me and the doctor. "Yes, just this afternoon, actually."
I snapped my head to the side and eyed both him and Frederick. Dr. Duncan looked from them to me, then nodded.
"Do you use recreational drugs, Miss Lastor?"
I looked down and shook my head. I refuse to participate in this bullshit any longer.
"Angel..." Jude called in a low voice, my name almost coming out as a threat.
"Va te faire foutre. Je ne fais pas ça plus." (Fuck off. I'm not doing this anymore.)
He stood and started pacing the room. I could tell he was struggling to keep his temper and he wouldn't have had to if he'd just let this go.
"Miss Lastor, you will have to be honest with me now so that I know how to help you," Dr. Duncan said, ignoring my brother's obvious fury.
I raised my head, glaring at him. "I don't need your fucking help," I spat before turning to look at Jude. "S'il vous plaît, Jude... nous allons rentrer à la maison." (Please, Jude... let's go home.)
He shook his head. "Il suffit de répondre à la question putain, Gel." (Just answer the fucking question, Gel.)
I gritted my teeth. "Bien!" I bit out, turning back to face Dr. Duncan. "I've been an alcoholic and drug addict ever since I was fifteen. Is that what you want to hear? That I feel like dying every time I don't catch a whiff of my poison? That one day without it and it's like I'm losing my mind at how much I crave for it? I'm even craving like crazy right now! And I can't keep down anything that isn't alcohol in my stomach anymore! And did I mention I'm a chain smoker? I can't start the day without a fucking stick to wake me up, a shot of whiskey to get my blood flowing, and a line of snow to help me fucking breathe! Write that fucking down so I don't have to repeat myself!"
Dr. Duncan just kept staring at me with that calm aura still intact, waiting for me to keep going and I just itched to hit his face. "So..." he began, pausing as he let out a cough. "What we're going to do here is give you a chest X-ray and an ultrasound, then get your blood sampled, but unfortunately, you're going to have to come back in the morning for that." He paused and looked up at me. "I'm going to give you a few painkillers, just in case you feel any unbearable pain. But you will have to promise me you won't drink alcohol, or take drugs, and smoke, okay? And a healthy meal won't hurt, Miss Lastor."
I scoffed. "Yeah, whatever."
"I can also recommend you to some rehabilitation centers in the city and there's a support group that meets every Sunday that you can attend if you'd like."
"The fuck did you just say?" I hissed.
"Talking about your problems with people who understand can be emotionally beneficial. You should give it a try."
"Are you fucking mocking me, you piece of shit?"
"I'm only suggesting, Miss Lastor."
I leaned forward, my fists shaking. "Lastor. Remember that before you utter another word. The next time you say some shit without thinking about it, I'll have your entire life burning in flames."
"Angel," my brother called in a hiss.
I ignored him, keeping my eyes firmly on the doctor who looked like he was pissing himself. I didn't give a shit right now. I was on the verge of losing my mind as my cravings grew and looking at this fat fuck was pissing me off. I've humored them enough.
Dr. Duncan was sweating, consciously averting my gaze. "Look at me," I ordered, my voice brusque and he snapped his eyes over to mine.
I stood, leaning over him as I clutched the edges of his desk and he shrunk, drawing back. I smirked at the fear in his eyes. He looked like he was half expecting me to claw his intestines out.
"I am not like any other patient and you will not treat me as one. I'm Angel Lastor, bitch. I own you. And trust me, I'm the last person you'd want to offend."
Dr. Duncan nodded, his eyes wide, losing every bit of professionalism he held. "I'm sorry, I was just-"
I held a hand up to stop him and straightened as I walked towards the door. I halted in my steps, a hand holding the door knob as I turned to face the trembling doctor.
"If you don't want to wake up in the middle of the night with a stranger holding a knife to your throat, keep your mouth shut."
"Of course, Miss Lastor. I understand," he said, his voice shaking as he grew a whiter shade of pale.
I offered him a bright smile. He looked like he was going to have a heart attack at the sight of it. "Thank you, Doctor. Your service to this hospital is greatly appreciated. Have a good night."
He looked at me as if I had said something utterly insane. I dropped the smile and glanced at my brother before striding out of the room, leading the way to the car and ignoring the few glances sent my way by the nurses I passed.
We drove home in silence and dropped off Frederick at his place. When we got home, I immediately rushed to my room in search for my cigarettes and the few bottles I had hidden under my bed along with the small stash of pot and an assortment of pills I hid in my shoe boxes.
I was crawling around my floor, my anxiety growing when I couldn't find anything.
"I threw them out."
I stilled, looking over my shoulder and seeing my brother standing by the doorway. I hadn't noticed him come in. I was too busy losing my mind as my demons raged at the absence of their poison.
Jude eyed me for a moment, his face unreadable. And then he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know how it came to be like this, Gel. If you'd just accept my help, we can-"
"Where are they?" I cut him off as I got to my feet. "Give them back."
His face hardened. "No."
I curled my hands into fists as I stood in front of him, my body shaking as I felt every shit that I desperately wanted to escape from come to life inside me.
"Give them back, Jude. I need them," I said, struggling to keep my composure.
"Need them?" He scoffed. "Do you hear yourself, Gel? Have you even looked in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse and soon enough, you're going to be one if you don't put a stop to this!"
I took a steadying breath, not having enough energy to engage in a shouting match with him. "If you don't give them back, I'll kill myself," I threatened, my voice calm.
Something inside him snapped as his eyes widened at my words.
"No, don't you fucking dare use that on me," he hissed, his anger reaching boiling point.
"You know I'll do it."
He looked like he was about to explode but I didn't care. I stared him down, my gaze impassive. After a minute of staring, he turned, marching towards his room across from mine. I waited. A moment or two later, he came back, carrying a gym bag in his hand. He dropped it on the floor, opening the bag. I swallowed hard at the sight of the bottles of scotch and wine that I received for my birthday along with the shoe box where I hid my stash.
He took one bottle from the bag, holding it up in front of me. My throat ran dry as I watched him tilt the bottle from side to side as if taunting me as the amber liquid flowed at each movement.
"You should see yourself right now, Gel. You're practically salivating."
I caught myself and swallowed hard, reaching to take the bottle but he held it away.
"Give it to me."
He quirked a brow. "You want it?" he taunted, shaking the bottle. "Then catch it."
With one swift swing of his arm, he threw the bottle against the wall, the glass shattering to pieces and the precious liquor dripping along the wall. I gasped, moving to rush towards it but he caught my arm, stilling me.
"Threaten me with suicide again and I'll break every bottle over your head," he spat out through gritted teeth.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I cried in frustration.
"Because I care about you and seeing you like this is killing me as much as it's killing you," he said brusquely, his voice devoid of any emotion. "We can do this every day but I won't stop unless you accept my help."
"I don't need your help! This is me, Jude! Why won't you accept that?! Just give up because nothing's going to change!"
He shook his head, extracting his hold on me. "I can't accept that. Not when I made this happen."
I pursed my lips, feeling a rush of angry tears brim the edges of my eyes. "You didn't do anything," I whispered, hating how he still believed he was responsible for what I had become.
A small smile appeared at the corner of his lips. "Exactly. I didn't do anything." His eyes bore into mine and the guilt that I always saw every time he looked at me filled his eyes. "I'm all that you have and I can't give up on you. I won't do that. Not again."
He stooped low, taking the gym bag and turning on his heel, walking towards his room and I watched him shut the door behind him.
In the dead of night, the eerie silence filled our home but it broke as I heard the sound of his fists hitting the wall coming from his room while all I did was stare at his door. More than ever, I wanted to escape my reality.