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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1771031
I see days in lines slowly blowing away. Addicting myself until I can finally fade away.
My eyes were still green as I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was still blonde. My hair still curled, but it didn't look like me. My eyelids looked heavier, my bags darker, my hair looked tangled. The light even bounced off me differently. My skin still looked shitty like normal, but I shouldn't expect that to be different. I've had that skin since i can remember. I didn't look ugly, but I didn't look pretty either. I just couldn't stop staring. Most of my makeup was was wiped off from the night. I wanted to turn away, but I couldn't. I didn't recognize the girl that was staring back at me. I knew she wasn't happy, but a devilish smile still came to my lips. She was in control now. The voice that tells me the difference between right and wrong was still screaming for me to listen, but I quickly buried it. That's tomarrows regret.

Nothing could touch me tonight. I felt invincible. Flunking out of school, all my bills pilling up, and the fact that i just used the rest of my money on pills didn't even phase me. It didn't matter. That stupid grin was still plastered on my face. My eyes which usually seemed innocent and kind just made me look more evil tonight. They weren't filled with hate, but with this arrogance, like I already knew I won.

Then for a moment my voice of reason came to me, more screamed to me. I felt like a bolt of reality just flooded through my veins. All the stress and sadness of what the fuck I was doing hit me. I looked down. I just couldn't take it. I hated the person in the mirror. She was the furthest person that would help me. I wanted to be back to normal, but I knew better. It was like a cheesy science fiction movie, and the dark side already won. She was in control now, but I shouldn't be surprised. She's been in control. Nothing matters to her.

I think that's why she scares me. I mean isn't it wrong to be that carefree? She's the one who got me to spend my last twenty on that blue star, which is exactly like it sounds a small blue colored pill shaped like a star. I looked in my hand as if it was still there, thinking what I would do if I could just have another, not that I needed it. My palms were already starting to get sweaty. I knew the pill had to be working. I closed my eyes and took a deep breathe right before I looked up to face myself in the mirror again, only this time it was different. I didn't scare myself anymore. The devilish smile came back to my face, and I could see the smugness in my eyes. I knew I would of eventually gave in. The air around me felt cool, almost soothing. I stood there for a second taking it all in before I splashed some cold water on my face and walked out the door.

Then I was back in the mirror again. Was it a day later? Maybe a week? I tried to remember. Everything felt blurry. I didn't even know what I was doing earlier that day. Why couldn't I remember. I closed my eyes as if I could focus hard enough it would come to me, but nothing. "Fuck it," i thought. Does it really matter? I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection. My eyes were tired. I looked like I aged years overnight. I had no makeup on. My hair was frizzy and unbrushed, but I didn't care. I started to lose focus. I tried to concentrate, but I couldn't anymore. I closed my eyes. Everything was spinning. I leaned on to the counter to keep my balance. I couldn't do this anymore. I was just a shell. I had no emotion anymore. I couldn't even get myself to even imagine trying to smile, yet alone have a happy thought. Why bother pretending to be happy? I never felt to empty inside. There weren't any bad thoughts in my head, but no good ones either. I was just there with no motivation for anything.

"This is as good as you're ever going to feel," I heard a voice tell me, and they were right... They were completely right. I put my back against the bathroom wall and slid down to the floor. I couldn't stand anymore. Maybe I'll overdose. I smiled. That's exactly what I'll do.
I felt like I blinked. The room was too bright. I could feel it even with my eyes closed. "Wake up," I could hear Monica say as she pulled the covers off me. "Rise and shine sleepy head. You've been asleep for 15 hours now." I was too tired to reply. I just pulled the blanket back over my head. She was still talking, but I wasn't listening. I just wanted to go back to sleep. I just wanted her to give up, but I kept hearing her voice. Finally I heard footsteps and the door slam. She was mad, but I couldn't get myself to care. Anything just to sleep longer.

I opened my eyes, but I couldn't really see. They kept watering. I kept blinking to get the tears out until I saw I was leaning over a bucket. I managed to lift my head enough to see that I was still in my room. The light was still too bright. My head was fucking spinning, and it felt like someone kept hitting me in the head with a hammer. Then on top of that my stomach was doing flips. I looked up, and my roomate Beau was standing there. He was talking and I knew he was trying to help, but I couldn't hear anything he was saying. The banging in my head was too loud, and his voice just felt like nails on a chalkboard. Then I felt it. I was going to puke again. I started gagging. This had to be what death feels like. I just wanted my head to stop spinning, but his voice was defiently not helping. I just wanted him to stop talking, to go away. "Get the fuck out," I finally screamed at him, "I don't want your help." I couldn't even look at him. It probably was better that I didn't see the hurt in his face. I wasn't stupid. I knew he liked me, but that's the last thing I wanted. It was easier to be a bitch then just tell him I didn't like him that way. I closed my eyes as I felt the vomit come up, and I heard him slam the door shut. It seemed to be happening a lot lately.

Everything was blurring together. I barely remember what was happening most of the time, yet the order they came in.

"How's school peanut," my dad asked me.
"It's good." I couldn't look him in the eyes as I spoke the words. If he only knew, I laughed to myself. I couldn't even remember the last time I stepped on campus. I hated that I had to lie to him. I had so much I wanted to say, but I just sat there silently. I couldn't explain my life to him, because it didn't even make sense to me.

Before I knew it I was back at my house. "Always doing it on a cd case," I joked with Steve.
He looked up and laughed a little. "It's usually how it goes. What cd is this anyways," he asked himself outloud as he lifted it up to see what it was.
"What," I asked him. He looked more serious for a second. "What album is it?"
"Ready to die," he finally answered. I just sat there quietly for a second. Some moments you don't have to say anything to understand what the other person's thinking.

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