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CHAPTER TWO TW: mentions of suicide.
☆
"𝘚𝘖... 𝘏𝘖𝘞 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘈𝘗𝘠?" Abel, my lifelong best friend asked as he reached over to his speaker and turned down Tracy Chapman playing in the back. I sigh, picking up the blunt that sat on his ashtray and along with it a lighter.
"same as always," I say before flicking the lighter and putting it at the end of the perfectly rolled joint. He looks at me weirdly as we sit on his bedroom floor with my back leaned against his black chair. He sits in front of me on his black rug. Black is his favorite color.
"So basically you didn't try at all..." his voice fades a little with disappointment making me look up from the blunt that was now lit and smoking at the end.
"Don't say it like that," I say and tilting my head to the side making my knotless braids fall to the right. Holding the blunt between my thumb and pointer finger I bring it to my lips and take a long inhale letting the toxin fill my lungs.
After a couple of seconds, I tilt my head back and exhale the smoke up into the air. "I mean. There's no other way to say it. your not even trying it's like you don't want to get better." I look away from him seeing the anger written on it. More like concern, but still.
"I do," I say taking another hit from the blunt that seemed to be affecting me slower than usual. I never get high right away when I need to.
"No, you don't, you just wanna turn away anyone who wants to help you-" I sigh cutting him off and taking yet another hit. This time longer and stronger.
"Yea because none of them want to help me, they just want their hefty paychecks at the end of the day. You of all people should know." He sighed, shaking his head a small laugh that didn't convince me something was funny.
"Sure Cory, but you of all people know it only gets worse. You're not doing what's best for you."
"but you know what? Do what you want." Was all he said before reaching out and grabbing the blunt from me. He rubs his hands over the low-cut blonde hair that he dyed a couple of weeks ago. I love it, it brings out his brown-skin complexion. I was always too scared to do colored hair and put myself out there because of my skin tone. But he never has been and I love that about him.
"I'm so done," I say standing up before even getting an answer of response. He looks at me as he exhaled the hit he took and nods.
"What are you done with Cory? A friend who's trying to help-" he looks at me as I grab my hoodie off of his bed.
"you're not trying to help me you are trying to hurt me."
"Oh please that's bullshit, I just don't want you to end up in some mental home simply because you don't want to talk about your feelings."
