an alternate universe where sayaka isn't so lucky in her fall from the tower of doors.
content warnings: death, depression, language, suicide attempt, substance abuse
**Here is an extra warning, there is substance abuse of both pills and alcohol, so please don't read if this upsets you.**
Listen to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zj_psrTUW_w&list=PLEle4lyGMYVwP3kP527HqrQ1owip_qReS&index=6
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Days slowly dragged on that seemed like months.
Weeks passed that felt like years.
Kirari was drowning.
𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒊 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒎𝒊
I sighed, sitting deeper into the bathtub filled with pleasantly warm, lavender-bubbled water. My platinum hair acted like a cape around me, covering my entire back.
Peeking a glance at my reflection in the metal of the bath handle, I saw the dark circles, the black half-moons under my eyes. My eyes had now taken on a grayed look, they were dull as hell without their usual sparkle. My complexion was paler than normal, even for somebody as fair as myself. My cheekbones were more pronounced, casting shadows and carving lines into my face.
Looking down, I took a look at my limbs and waist. I had lost some weight, I appeared more emaciated than usual.
To put it in short, I looked like death herself.
Something caught my eye by the door. The slightly open cupboard, just ever-so-slightly. There was nothing wrong with it, just... me. Inside, I could see the rows and rows of orange pill bottles and other various holders for medicine.
It would be so easy. That was all I could think. So easy to just get up, swallow a handful, and sit back into the tub to wait for it to consume me.
So easy.
And so I did.
I rose out of the tub, bubbles sliding off of my body, the cool air hitting my skin. I stepped, a squelching sound came from the water underneath my feet. A few more squelches, and I was standing straight in front of the semi-opened cabinet. Softly pushing with my fingers, the cabinet door opened further.
Scanning the various labels, my gaze landed on an orange pharmaceutical bottle labeled Vicodin.
Good. A painkiller.
Beginning to shiver from the cold on my unclothed body and the fear of being seen, I opened it up quickly. Pouring a handful of the pills onto my palm, I tipped my head back and swallowed. Not one, but a good eight pills.
The plastic casing made my throat not register the usual bitter taste. But I wanted to feel it. To feel something other than hollow, empty pain in that part in your left cavity called a heart.
I opened the door, going over to the mahogany dresser in between Ririka and I's beds. There was a bronze flask that we filled with rum. Occasionally, her and I would split it. I shaked up- there was a full amount of it, I filled it up after we finished it last time.
The last time we used it was New Years' Eve. I almost smiled at the memory, staying up until 12am with my twin. Almost.
I uncapped the bottle, downing the entire thing in a few gulps. The pills went down easy. I gasped after, dropping it back into the drawer. The burn was almost unbearable, tracing it's fiery trail down my throat. Almost.
I slipped back into the tub, my brain beginning to feel the intoxication early on. I blinked rapidly, clenching my grip on the edges.
