Cough Syrup

Chapter 7: Well That Didn't Work

The first thing I woke up to was a killer migraine. I was lucky off my ass that I didn't throw up last night.

Shit. I'm still alive.
Shit. There's a boy sleeping on my couch.
Shit. What happened last night?

My head swam for a while, and a few blurry images of Zach came to mind; taking shots with me, his arms around me, his slurred words...

"You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."

Oh no. This was bad. This was very bad.

Suddenly a very hung over and very pale Zach stumbled into my room.

He groaned. "Why am I in your house..?" He asked squinting at me.

I sat up in bed and stared at him silent for a few seconds. What did he remember? "We came back here from Wendy's last night-" With this he looked back to the table in my living room where the bag of food still sat, "-And took some shots together. That's about all I remember. I think you crashed on my couch."

Look at you. Still lying to him. You never told him your plan, you never even went through with it, you coward. Not to mention you left out the part where he called you beautiful.

I mentally told myself to shut up. Suicide could wait until after he left. Besides, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him... Right? He could live not knowing he confessed he used to like me. With the thought of suicide I remembered the bottles of cough syrup I had thrown onto my bed. I glanced to my left and sure enough they were there. I quickly tossed my sheets back, covering them, but exposing me. Me in my T-shirt and underwear only. Blushing, Zach quickly looked away. "Oh no... I didn't do anything.. Stupid last night, did I?" He asked. Oh dear lord, he's asking if he slept with me. He really must not remember anything.

"No," I reassure him. "We were talking and you just got tired and went to sleep on the couch. This is what I, er, sleep in." I got up and plucked a pair of shorts from my bedroom floor, Zach still looking away in embarrassment.

"Sorry I barged in.." He mumbled shyly.

"It's fine, really." I walked up to him and smiled, ushering him out of my room and closing the door behind me. He rubbed his head and I could tell by the pained look he got that his migraine was even worse than mine. "You can stay a bit longer if you want. I know you must be feeling terrible right now." I offered. I thought to myself that subconsciously I might be prolonging my suicide. Why?

"Thank you, really." He nodded. When his eyes met mine a flash of realization sparked in him. "Crap. The whole reason I came here last night.. It was because you were upset. You were going to tell me what was bothering you," Fuck! Why did he have to remember? "Instead I got drunk off my ass. I'm sorry." He frowned like he was guilty, I made him feel guilty. What a jerk I was.

"No no, really, it's fine. It was my idea anyway." I said. I couldn't help but feel a little defeated. Somewhere deep down I knew he would still manage to drag it out of me.

I walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch, Zach's pillow was tossed aside and his blanket in a crumpled mound on the floor. He sat next to me, picking up the blanket and folding it over the couch. "The light is killing me." He moaned. "I can't believe I got that wasted and didn't even drink any water. I think I thew up too. There was a funny taste in my mouth when I woke up." He frowned and ran a hand through the back of his hair. This drew a small laugh from me.

"You're a mess."

"So are you!" He shot back in a loud whisper. I shoved his shoulder lightly and he hugged me casually. To him it was just a hug, to me it was a burden. This was a secret I could never tell him I knew. What I didn't understand was why it bothered me so much.

He nudged me and it was only then that I realized I had been staring off into space. "Earth to Eden, are you alive in there?"

"Ah! Yeah, sorry." I said. "Just thinking. You know what? Are you hungry?" I asked walking into the kitchen. "I'm going to make an omelette."

Zach nods in response. "Thanks."

I lean into the fridge and get out all of my ingredients, I begin stirring the eggs, mixing the yolk in with the whites. As I add in the mushrooms and cheese I start to get overtaken by thought.

I am in such a mess. What am I going to do about all of this? Suicide was my plan in the first place. It still seems like a reasonable solution to everything.

In some way though, leaving him like this felt wrong. But this was no time for second thoughts. No way can I back out now. The moment he left I had to do it before I could turn back.

You're treating it like a game. You shouldn't be so careless with something as fragile as a life.

My inner selves never looked like they would stop conflicting each other.

I finished cooking the omelettes, and sliding them onto two plates I turned around to serve Zach. When I turned though, he was on my laptop.

"What is this?" He asked looking up at me.

My mouth wouldn't move. My body wouldn't move. I decided then and there that it is possible to drown in your words.