smother. [h.s.]

5. pay attention

Toccata and Fuge in D minor - Bach

6:00 AM

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes open slowly to see nothing but darkness. The room is pitch black and the sun has yet to rise. Sasha's phone is right by my ear, blaring out an annoying alarm. 

I pat my hand around until I feel it against the pads of my fingers and quickly turn it off. Sasha lays on top of me, still sleeping soundly with her cheek pressed against my bare stomach. We must have fallen asleep after we showered and laid around in my bed following our return from the big rock. 

I lay there in silence for a minute and gather up the energy to wake her. She only nuzzles her head further into my ribcage, falling deeper into a tranquil slumber. 

"Sash," I mumble, shaking her shoulder lightly. "Get up. Come on, it's six."

I feel her head shake slightly in defiance, but I know she'll get up soon. We both would rather avoid Miss Karenina's wrath. After a few moments, she finally unglues herself from my body and gets up to go to the bathroom. While she gets ready, I roll out of bed as well. 

As I come to a standing position, I feel my head throb painfully in the same exact way as the other morning, except considerably worse. I grip onto my temple, wincing at the pounding feeling against my skull. 

With squinted eyes, I flick on my desk lamp and gingerly walk over to my closet to grab my pink ballet bag, pulling out a black leotard, light pink tights, and the rest of my dancing supplies. 

When I stand back up straight, another wave of debilitating pain hits my head. The room spins for a few seconds and a cold sweat gathers on my palms. I lean against the closet door for balance, a shiver driving along all surfaces of my skin. 

Great. Whatever I did at the club is sticking around longer than I anticipated.

I bring my shaking hand up to my chapped lips, biting down on my short fingernails as I consider my options. I peek behind me to make sure Sasha is still in the bathroom and reach up to grab my stash bag from the closet. I unzip it, staring down at the contents. 

 I wouldn't call myself an addict, per se, despite my questionable behavior. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And after all, I have a good excuse. This little migraine, amongst other things— It's a rough patch. It will pass. I just need some help, and I can't do it alone. 

You understand, don't you?

Carefully, I extract the tiny spoon from the heart locket around my neck. With it still attached to the chain, I scoop up a healthy amount of white powder from one of my clear baggies filled with the substance. I line it up to my nose, inhaling it all in one go. I scrunch up my nose as I feel it travel through my airways, sniffling a few times to make sure I got it all. I then pop a few painkillers, hoping they'll dull out the pain while the coke keeps my energy up. 

Uppers and downers. Happy first day back!

"Have you seen my hairbrush?" Sasha walks out of the bathroom door, looking around for it. 

I turn around quickly, alarmed by her sudden entrance. I hop onto my bed and hide the bag by sitting on it partially, making an awkward lump under my thigh. I cross my legs at an unnatural angle in order to conceal it the best I can. 

"Uh— no, maybe Alice took it by accident?" I answer back, trying to keep my voice steady as the drugs enter my bloodstream rapidly and cause me to stumble over my words. 

"Oh, maybe," She hums, putting on her ballet attire. She glances over me. "Why are you sitting like that?"

"Like what?"