The Void Between Stars: Book 4 Of The Orion Series

A Hard Honesty

[TRIGGER WARNING: Acknowledgment and discussion of a suicide attempt]

I sigh heavily with an equally heavy frown. Currently I stood in what would be my bedroom for the next ninety days. It wasn't the same room I was in last time, but it may as well have been. Same boring white walls, same boring desk in the corner. Same en-suite bathroom, same dresser. I walked over to the sliding closet door (which doubled as a mirror) and opened it. Then closed it. Then opened it again and left it open.

They ran a tight ship here. Six-thirty AM alarm. Head count at breakfast at seven. Morning leisure starting at seven-thirty. Then at eight o'clock sharp your ass had better be in your first therapy session of the day.

I walked over to my bed. For a moment I stared at it. It was plain, with a white sheet and white pillow. A comforter could be found neatly folded in the closet on the top shelf (I knew this without even looking). If it was anything like the other bed I had slept in last time I was here, it was pretty damn comfortable.

For a moment I spread my arms out and closed my eyes. Then I let myself free-fall onto the bed, face planted firmly into the pillow. I moaned loudly.

"Fuuuuck, Orion, what're you doing?" I asked myself out loud into the comfortable pillow.

What was I doing? I mean, it was pretty obvious what I was doing; I was wallowing. And while I wasn't prone to it, I gave myself permission to wallow just a bit.

My boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—was states away. I was in a rehab facility for alcoholism (again). My best friend, who I was stupid enough to sleep with (again), currently hated me. My other best friend gave me a teddy bear and that was that. I had broken my sister's heart. I had scared my manager—whom I largely considered a mother to me—half to death.

Oh. And speaking of death. I had attempted suicide.

I flipped over onto my back. I expected to feel...Something. This entire time up until now I denied what I had done. 'It was an accident.' 'I just wanted to sleep.'

As I laid there, staring up at the white ceiling, one hand on my chest, it was the first time I admitted to myself I had tried to kill myself. Everyone was right—I knew what I was fucking doing when I got a hold of Simon. I knew that if whatever he gave me didn't work I was going to take everything I could get my hands on until I found something that would work.

And by "work" I mean, make the pain stop. I just wanted the pain to stop. I no longer knew how to get there myself, and I was in such emotional turmoil I didn't know up from down or left from right. So I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted everything to stop.

I was a mess. I broke up with my boyfriend, lied to his face. I had broken my sobriety willingly. I had let everyone around me down. I had lied to everyone. Everyone hated me...

Or so I thought. Then I had woken up in a hospital after taking seven pills, and it was like the fucking Wizard of Oz when Dorothy wakes up. Everyone was there. Everyone was there for me, but I couldn't even fucking be there for myself.

I didn't deserve them. I didn't deserve anything I had. Not the fame, not the fortune, not a loyal boyfriend or upstanding friends. I was just a fuck up. I wanted to burn it all to the ground.

So I tried to kill myself.

I felt a wetness on my face, so I swiped my hand against my temple. When I looked at my hand, and then realized the pillow was wet beneath me, I know I'm crying. And it's really fucking scary, because I'm crying, but I don't feel anything. Here I had just admitted to myself that I had tried to take my own life, and I was crying, but emotionally I was completely dead.