Manic [h.s]

#022

Try reading this chapter with the above video running in the background for a better experience :)

"I could drown myself in someone like you

I could dive so deep I never come out"

Impossible | Nothing But Thieves

TW: Mentions of self-harm/suicide. I'll mark the starting point of the triggering part with a * and end it with a * so you can fully skip it if you feel uncomfortable reading <3

February 09, 1999

IRIS XANDER

The beach tonight is bathed in a soft, golden moon glow. The blue waters seem drowsy as they lie under the midnight gleam. The bright moon dances in the sky along with the stars, and the ocean sky, threaded with silver, soaks the sea in its beauty. The waves gently ripple against the feather-soft sand, soaking my bare toes in the process.

A small smile tugs at my lips as I stare out at the midnight sky. The stars twinkle in the endless expanse of the void-black sky. The beauty of it is captivating, each star a tiny beacon of light in the vast sea of black.

I redirect my gaze back to the sea, which is singing its own melody. This is what I love about the beach, and I guess I always have. The gently sound of the waters is captivating. It's almost peaceful. Listening to the ocean's song calms me, and it's amazing how just watching the white spray kiss the sand makes me feel so relaxed. It's nature's therapy. Something that you can't find anywhere else.

The wind nips at my clothes as I bring the open vodka bottle to my lips. Not exactly a very pleasant thing to do on a night like this. The slosh of the liquor inside the bottle is the only sound breaking the stillness. It's almost two in the morning—definitely not the best time to be spending time out here or getting drunk, but I needed a break. Hell, I wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was just the stress of the day and I needed to feel something different. So here I am, vodka in hand, staring out at the ocean like it has all the answers.

I take another swig from the vodka bottle. I grimace as it goes down, the raw liquor burning my throat. But I welcome the burn, not bothering to stop.

My thoughts are a chaotic mess thanks to all this drinking. I already know I'm setting myself up for a killer hangover in the morning, but that's tomorrow's problem. Tonight, I couldn't care less. My vision is a weird mix of blurry and sharp, like I can see everything around me but it's all wrapped in a fog. I know that if I finish this bottle of liquor, I'll probably end up puking my guts out. Yet, my mind likes to act otherwise. I just want to get wasted and forget about everything else. I lean back into the sand, letting the world spin around me. It's like, for once, I can shut off the noise in my head and just be.

Another gust of wind tries to rip the glass bottle from my grip as if it's silently telling me to knock it off. But I hold on tight, my fingers wrapped around the bottle like it's the only thing keeping me grounded.

Please let me forget.

All the lights were off in the beach house when I stumbled down the stairs, everyone else probably asleep. But that was about an hour ago. How long have I been out here in the sand, legs pulled up tight to my chest? My shoes are lying beside me, the hems of my pants rolled up to my calves to let the salty waves lap at my bare skin.