Hold On To Me || Kirk Hammett

Part 16- Would You Deceive Me?

Officially Kirk and Savannah's 50th chapter 🥳🥳 I decided to make it a happy chapter and give y'all a break. 

I'm in a rut where I know what I'm going to write about but I don't know what to write Iykyk. Sorry it's shitty and a ietjie bietjie rushed. After I'm done with the book I'm going to start from the beginning and rewrite all these chapters: Also- question. Why does the first chapter always suck ass?

Anyways, cheers guys.

Savannah's POV

When I said I loved being out of that dark hole, I lied. I loved every second of it. Surrounded by misery and hatred and anger. Piping hot anger engulfed me in a raging fire, igniting every inch of my bones. It was the only thing that kept this stupid heart alive.

I didn't want to live. I didn't want to die either. I was stuck between the bridges of life and death, and the bridge was crumbling underneath me, collapsing on top of me. 

I was sleepwalking my life away, but that was better than living the life I had, better than dealing with the cards the devil dished out to me. Quitting was easier because I was simply tired of living, and it was much better than dying.

Forget the five stages of grief. I had two. Drugs and alcohol, and it was much better than denial and acceptance and whatever the fuck it was.

I keep telling myself that I've put the drugs behind me. I keep telling myself that I have a child and a husband and a family. I've finally built the life I was desperately wanting for so long.

But I never give myself a break.

Cigarettes were weak. Alcohol didn't do much better. And Marijuana was obsolete to me. There was only one thing that gets them to keep them silent, that satiated them until tomorrow.

Just like God, she has many names. She's my solace in a time of grief. My companion through the hard times. She understands me. Never questioning my actions. She wraps me up in a bubble of joy and sparks the fires in my heart, shining a shimmer of golden light through my demons.

Whether you roll her or snort her- she never disappoints. She's my own personal devil. My addiction.

Heroin.

~~~~~

"Hey, baby girl." Kirk said, pulling me by my waist into a hug, "How are you feeling?"

Lately, no matter how unbearable I had behaved, he found a way to cool his blood and never said a word with ill intent. I hated how he pitied me.

I was transported back to 1990 where he looked at me with sorrow in his eyes and lies on his lips.

He acted as though the accident erased all the times he had shut me out. All the times we had disagreed and argued over the prettiest of things.

I looked at him with my eyes bloodshot, "Fine." I grumbled.

I somehow had managed to pluck another word from the lying tree in my mouth. These past six months have been worse than being dragged in the burning fire at the depths of hell.

All I could think of was blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood on my hands and on my face and on the cars and on the road and on Neil. And he's on my lap, right there on my thighs and he's dead. Not a sound, not a movement, not a single breath.