― 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏.
❝ no, i am not nice or lovely.
i am just a pair of shaky hands
and an empty body
numbed by pills.
please don't think i am more.
i don't know if i am. ❞
or, in whic...
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BEYOND THIS ILLUSION (book one). °• CHAPTER FOUR •°
" I THOUGHT I WAS DYING, YOU KNOW? I WISH I DID. "
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THERE WERE A DOZEN THINGS IDA TUCKER HATED IN THSI WORLD.She sometimes placed herself at the top of that list for all of her mistakes. It was a shame she couldn't put her own addiction or popping pills anywhere on the list because she accepted it was her disease that spun out of control. That's why she often found herself riddled with a deep self-loathing. Ida also hates gravy, even the smell of it, and studying. God, somedays studying was on the top of the list. It practically numbed her brain. She'd often find herself jumping awake, startled, having fallen asleep with her cheek stuck like glue to the page of a textbook, her bloodshot eyes burning. She was glad those school days were long over. Then again, it sucked they were replaced with a horrible habit that took over her life.
However, therapy? Group therapy? Ida didn't realize just how much she could loathe it until she was forced to stick her butt in a chair and listen to endless monologues about feelings to the facilities therapist. Group therapy was at the top of her list without a doubt. Ida had never been so depressed she was suicidal, but at that moment, she considered sticking a pistol in her mouth and pulling the trigger for an easy way out.
The vile thought causes Ida to curl her lip in disgust. She hadn't realized just how deep into her mind she had dived. The dark thoughts Kaia seemed to poke and tease at when they appeared in Ida's paintings had taken over. She grinds the soles of her sneakers into the dusty ceramic flooring and shifts in her creaking chair. Ida longed to just fall into her twin mattress and sleep away her issues instead of discussing them as if it'd be a relief. Too bad the recovery program didn't work like that.
Addicts come in many shapes and sizes. It affects everyone differently but messes them up all the same. Ida's heard stories with happy endings, ones that ended with body bags, and others with a horrific in-between that causes her stomach to churn. People who were so doped up they didn't realize who they were hurting. And those were some of the kindest people she's ever met here. Ida sometimes wondered where her story was.
What character did she play? What would she become when it ends?
It's hard to listen to others tell their stories. Ida wordlessly takes in everything they're being told during group therapy as one of the members explains how his addiction directly affected their family. "I - I would've sold my son for another hit. I know if I wasn't here, I probably still would," they reluctantly admit, fiddling with their hands.
