Insomniacs (#1)

24. before

For a moment, there was bliss; waking up in an unfamiliar room with strong arms holding me tightly, realising it was Luca. Luca that lay his head on my lap yesterday with that pretty smile of his, whispered the words that made me want to smile uncontrollably. For when you're eventually mine. I almost smiled as I opened my eyes.

And then it rolled in. Crashed against me like I'd just been punched in the stomach and the wind was knocked out of me.

My stomach felt like it was carving itself from the inside out, that feeling of a pit deepening and deepening.

And deepening and deepening.

My cheek was sore.

It deepened.

I didn't want to be here. I wanted to feel what I did for that fucking euphoric moment last night. And it deepened.

Luca had to take care of me, like I'm some sort of shattered vase he's trying to glue together. It deepened and deepened.

I met my dad yesterday. My dad hit me yesterday. My mum permitted the fires of his presence to burn me yesterday. And I shot up off the bed and towards the bathroom, spewing out vomit.

I dropped to my knees and gripped the edge of the toilet bowl, my throat turning raw from how much was spilling out of me.

I didn't ever want to think about yesterday again.

Tears had leaked from my eyes because of the vomit as I sat back against the wall of the bathroom. It was bitterly cold in there but I barely noticed the goosebumps on my skin from how horrible I felt.
I wasn't sad or angry. I just felt horrible: a mixture of those two and some more that made my mind groggy and my body a place I didn't want to be in.

I wanted to lock myself up in a room, never to be seen again. But being alone with myself sounded more like the deadliest of nightmares. I wanted to scream until my lungs couldn't bear to shriek any longer. I wanted to never speak a word to anyone again.

It was like the weight of yesterday had physically added mass to each of my limbs. Everything felt so much more tiresome, my body so spent and fatigued from absolutely nothing.

My stomach bubbled up and into my throat again so I keeled over the toilet once more, getting rid of the contents of my stomach. Not that there was much anyways seeing as though I couldn't remember when I last ate anything of substance.

Coldness surrounded me, my body breaking out into a sweat from how much water and strength it was losing. Until warm hands had swooped my hair behind my head, rubbing up and down my back. I wanted to turn to look but was a little busy.

"Its alright, love. I'm right here." His voice was such a gravelly rasp that it sent more shivers running through me. He sounded tired having just woken up.

I coughed at the awfully bitter pain in my throat, sitting back and using some tissue to wipe at my mouth. I didn't even want to look at him. It'd just make me feel all the more horrible knowing what I suffered him to last night.

"Alright. Come on." His voice was so mesmerising, sweet and lulling like a big warm safety blanket. He grasped my hands and pulled me up to my feet. Only then did I realise how debilitated I truly was, my legs trembling underneath me pathetically.

"Shit. Fuck, Ria, you're too pale. When was the last time you ate?" He quickly held me up and against his warm body. I still hadn't looked at his face. 

I really couldn't remember the last time anything other than that diazepam had touched my tongue.

My lack of response was enough for concern to take over him again.