𝐍𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - kiara carrera²

𝒊𝒙𝒙𝒙. 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕-𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈

(TW: i don't usually do this for my bad chapters, but i feel like this one is a lot more graphic than the others are. mentions of overdose and suicide attempt)

"HEY TATE - OH, MY GOD!"

While Pope spent the next day speaking alone with his great-grandmother, the rest of the pouges were finally allowed a free day, full of gossip and weed, and all that regular teenager stuff. However, considering she was literally illegally living in town, Tatum stayed at home for the day, claiming she just needed some sleep and a good rest.

So, after a long, therapeutic talk with Sarah Cameron, Kiara decided to go over and check on the girl, like a friend checking up on a friend...with a huge amount of takeout food in her hand...and three rental movies. That was normal, right? Friends could do that. Totally.

But when she was expecting to find the girl laid in bed, wearing those cute, cozy pyjamas Kiara loved on her, ready to rest and watch movies for the rest of the day, Kie was reminded once again that Tatum Quinn never lived up to her expectations.

A loud, horrified scream ripped out of the Carrera girl's throat when she found her ex-girlfriend there, laid on the floor, in a pool of her own vommit.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"

Minutes went by and nobody came. John B and JJ were probably screaming their lungs out to some song playing in the van, and Sarah would be with them while they waited for Pope to call, telling them to come and pick him up. Of course they didn't hear her.

Holding Tatum close to her chest, Kiara sobbed helplessly. She had no idea what to do, and she blamed herself. If she and Pope hadn't made that stupid mistake, none of this would've happened. Tatum wouldn't have broke down again and again and again. She wouldn't have tried to kill herself. TWICE. If Kie had just been there for her...she needed Tatum to be okay.

She searched around the girl, not caring about the tinted pink sick sticking to her as she spread her arms through it. She needed to find out what she took and how much.

Kiara's hand stopped at the feel of a plastic lump in Tate's puke, lifting the bottle up in her hand to see what it was.

Valporate. Only three pills left in the tube.

A stressful hand running through her hair, Kiara tried to think up ways to help the girl on the floor. She was breathing, but bearly. Her heart was beating, but slowly. She couldn't go to hospital because the cops would take her. She couldn't die because Kie couldn't live without her.

She knew one thing, though: she had to get that medicine out of Tatum's body before it begun eating out her insides.

Without thinking of the consequences, Kiara raced to the kitchen, leaving Tatum on the floor. The pills would be making their way through her bloodstream by now.

This was the last thing Kiara Carrera could ever see herself doing. This was the last thing Kiara Carrera would ever want to do.

Tears streaming down her face, sitting in a pool of her ex-girlfriend's vomit, Tatum's head on her lap, Kiara Carrera dragged a knife over the pointy, green vein of the girl's wrist.

The moment blood began to fall down, she peeled off her crop-top and wrapped it tightly around Tatum's wrist, while starting to stick her fingers down her throat, forcing her to throw it all up even more.

But nothing came out. Nothing but water and blood.

Tatum Quinn's heart stopped.