Torneró

23

Sylvie's POV:

I lean over the sink, breathing as hard as I possibly can while the tears storm down my red face. I bend my upper body forward as the contents from the liquor bottle force themselves back up my stomach. 

I can't breathe. 

I've never felt this type of way before and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I love him, I love him so much. I never got the chance to tell him that, and I never will. I will never forget those words he emotionlessly spoke to me. I wasn't enough for him, that's not surprising. He's everything I have ever wanted to be, everything anybody would want to be. I was willing to give up everything for him, and this whole time it was a fucking game to him. 

You get what you deserve, Sylvie.

I lift my head back up once I my stomach feels empty once again, my throat burns and my eyes sting every time I shut them, a thin layer of sweat coats my forehead. I lift my right hand up, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. I lower it down, before the memory flashes back and I feel my heart crack in half all over again.

 "Make it stop!" I cry, "Please, just make it stop!" I beg to absolutely nobody with my eyes sewn shut, clutching the sides of my head with my hands as I crouch forward.

I force my eyes open as I inspect the room. 

Through the mess of the multiple bottles of liquor that lay contentless on the ground, and the shards of glass that spread themselves across the tiled, marble floor. I notice once thing. The one thing I praised for the longest time. The one thing that could make it go away.

I push myself off the sink's counter and tread past the deadly floor towards the cabinet, a determined expression plastered on my face. I extend my arm up, wrapping my hands around the small, bright orange container.

Don't do it, Sylvie.

I slam the container onto the kitchen counter, gripping my hair and staring towards the ceiling as I pace around in circles. Contemplating whether I was going to give it all up, or not. 

It hurts too bad, my heart hurts, my head hurts, my entire fucking body hurts. I leap towards the container, ripping the white lid off with my opposite hand and pouring four of the pills onto my palms. I stare at it from eye level, my hands shaking as the tears continue to force themselves out of my bloodshot eyes. My light brown hair left a mess on top of my head. Without thinking twice, I lift my palms up high and slam it against my lips. the cylinder shaped pills falling onto my tongue as I force myself to swallow them down.

It'll only be a minute now. A minute more of this unbearable torture, the emotional torture that hurts worst than any kind of physical torture. A minute more before I reach the peaceful zone, the silent zone, the fucked up zone. 

Who the fuck am I?

***

"Sylvie!" Katherine screams, banging her fist against the white, wooden door in the front of my apartment. I groan, lifting myself off the uncomfortable position I lay in on the couch. Her fists collide with the door once again, making ear wrenching sounds echo throughout the long apartment. "Syl, open the door!" she screams even louder. I shuffle my way to the door, wrapping the light pink, fluffy blanket around my shivering body.

I wrap my hands around the gold handle, pushing it down and pulling the door towards me. "oh my god-" Katherine expresses as soon as I reveal myself. "What?" I respond, muffled as I can't be bothered to open my dry mouth much further. "You look like shit", she compliments my dark underbags and knotted bed head. I grunt as I pull the door open further, allowing her to walk into the messy apartment. 

"Cole told me what happened" she finally acknowledges, I throw a sarcastic smile over at her mention, before releasing it into my resting bitch face once again. "Are you okay?" she asks, I turn my gaze from the ceramic bowl in front of me, over to her eyes. That should be enough to answer her question. 

Katherine strolls around the room, her fingertips lightly grazing the necks of the empty liquor bottles that remain in the same position as previously, on the floor and tables. 

"I need an answer" she orders, stopping in her tracks and turning her body towards me, "a verbal answer" she nods as she speaks. I groan before opening my mouth to respond, "I'm fine". She stays silent for a moment, capturing my eyes in hers as she stares me down. "Are you sure? Because you look exactly like you did bef-" her words stop flowing out of her mouth as her eyes leave mine and attach themselves to an object behind me. 

"Please tell me that you didn't" she begs in a low tone, slowly walking towards me. At first, I'm confused over what she's speaking about. However, when she walks directly past me and reaches for the orange container hiding in the cabinet behind me, my confusion is murdered.

She rips the white lid off of the container, staring at the cylinder pills on the inside and quickly counting them in her head. "You're down four" she mumbles, mainly to herself. I release a guilty breath of air out, placing my palms against my forehead as I lower my eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry" I apologise to her, why? I don't know. 

"You promised me you wouldn't do it again. You were doing so fucking well Syl", she slams the container on the kitchen countertops, making the pills rattle against the walls of the inside, and leans towards me, "this" she points at the bright plastic behind her, "is not the solution". She turns around angrily, storming towards the door. "This isn't you", she responds and continues her marching out of the door, slamming it behind her. 

I can't do it anymore. I just lost another person in my life, another person hates me and never wants to see me again.

Why am I never good enough.

I break down, my knees deceiving me as I slide against the kitchen cabinet doors, lowering myself until my bottom reaches the marble, tiled flooring. The coldness radiates off the ground and seeps through my clothes, sending a shiver up my spine. 

I clutch my arms around my knees, pressing my forehead against my knees as the tears force themselves out of my eyes. I release a deep breath, struggling to replace it as I gasp for breath. 

Please, just make it stop. 

Katherine already hates me, I can't disappoint Carter because he never even cared in the first place, dad doesn't need to know, he was never there when I needed him. Why would he be here for me now. He's just going to leave me anyways.

I force myself up again, grabbing the orange bottle and pouring four more pills onto my palm. Not thinking twice as I drop them into my mouth, swallowing them with a sip of water. 

I'm sorry, Mom.

I walk back towards the messed up couch and lay across it, placing my hands over my stomach as I shut my burning eyes, letting the darkness take over.

He still hadn't left me, I still had my light to my darkness. Except, he wasn't mine anymore.