I'm Still Breathing

ten

*ONE YEAR PRIOR THE ACCIDENT*

I'm walking through the busy streets of New York in the afternoon. I'm still here after that accident. My face doesn't seem to blend in with normal and  busy people because they still see me as the normal girl who finished her studies as a valedictorian and who's currently a model. But I see myself at the girl who had her life fucked up after graduating and she turned suicidal, bulimic, and a fuck-up. She's still a fuck up. She hasn't moved on. She still can't forget about ex-boyfriend cheating and her kissing Logan. Those accidents happened a few years back she can't even forget the painful memories she experienced because she was still paranoid.

I'm still a model here in New York, but my career is slowly destroying by some thin blonde, an anorexic wannabe. If I'm fired or my career is ruined, I'm done. I'm fucking done with my life. I'm going to do something that the people or God, himself, won't forgive me.

I officially turned myself suicidal after the incident. My friends, roommates, I may say, tried to build me again by giving me thoughts on how to save and recover from my life, especially my past. My scars are still visible and many. but I keep them covered because people might think I'm a insane for being suicidal having a pretty face and such.

From: Toby York

Beth, where are you? You need to be here! Party's starting!

I text her back, immediately.

To: Toby York

I'm going, okay. Don't rush. I just took a stroll, about a block away. Don't finish all of those alcohol.

I hastily walk to the bar that Toby and I will meet up. As I enter the door, I can smell the weed and sweat immediately. It's not my first time, but I haven't gotten used with the smell the bar always has.

I see Toby at one side of the bar table, waving her hand, signalling me to come near her. I rush towards her and as I reach the booth, she smiles and gave me her half-used cigarette. I gladly accept it and smoke, exhaling the toxic from my body. She grabs the cigarette and puts it on the table. I grab the vodka bottle and drink.

"What are we going to do?" I ask.

"I'm going to fuck somebody tonight!" Toby shouts and I try to hide my frown, but smile.

"How are you moving on with Jamie and Logan?" Blaire asks me, inhaling and finishing off a roll.

"Not good! I want to kill myself!" I shout through the loud music.

"I'm a fuck-up! Who is a perfect person?" I shout, taking the Vodka bottle in my own hands and drinking on it directly.

People say 'no' in response, as I stand on the bar table and raise the vodka bottle.

"Who needs love? Who needs a person to look out?" I exclaim.

People start to hoot and I smile. I raise my bottle is salute and they do the same. I bring the bottle to my mouth and drink the vodka. The familiar sting and burn is still there, as if my body is taking in a new chemical. I sit down on the bar table and wipe the beads of sweat on my forehead. Blaire sits beside me and smokes.

"Have you talk to them?" She asks, patting her black jeans to remove the ash from her newly lit cigarette.

"Nope," I reply and Blaire stands up and tries to go somewhere, maybe the bathroom, waiting for our conversation to end.