lacuna

Chapter One

Fallon's pov:

5:32

Is that a convenient time to be killing oneself?

It has been exactly forty-five minutes since I've been staring at the dozen pills in my palm. I'd been in this hole four times by now and each time felt similar, only this time it was a Sunday.

You could end it right now and everything would stop.

The bathroom floor was warm from my sitting there and the gush of water from the faucet did a fair job of muffling out any sound that came from inside. I closed my eyes and envisioned the peace – the quiet – I'd feel after I did it.

You could finally be rid of everything that was weighing you down.

My phone started vibrating on the sink counter. I closed my eyes tighter. I waited for it to stop and it did.

Just do it. Goddammit, get it over with.

My hands started shaking, tears filling up my already red, swollen eyes. I lifted-

"Fallon? Where are you?"

Suddenly, I felt as if I had just woken up with a cold bucket of water splashed over me. I dropped the pills, backing away. As the pills scattered all over the floor, I could hear and feel the pounding heartbeat in my ears.

"Fallon? I just got a call from Fine Feathers. They said some sort of books you ordered arrived"

I briefly closed my eyes and swallowed. I reached up and closed the faucet. I had to force my voice to stop wavering, "I'll be down in a minute".

I wanted to break down crying. I almost did it. I almost ended my life.

I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes and took a shaky breath. The surges of shame and guilt mixed with anger were overwhelming but I pulled myself together and started picking up the strewn pills.

The last thing I'd want would be for my mum to start worrying and demand I open the bathroom door when I look like an absolute mess with a dozen sleeping pills all over the floor and realise that her eighteen-year-old daughter was clearly trying to kill herself. But then again, I wasn't sure she'd even notice. Given that I had changed drastically in the past years – not in a good way – and had shown signs that implied I was obviously not in a healthy state of mind but they barely even realised that. I didn't know if it was because they actually didn't notice and hadn't paid attention that much, or if it was simply because they notice everything but just don't care.

I had decided to settle with the former.

After getting myself together and washing my face till I didn't look like I'd been crying, I opened the door and stepped out into my room. The sun had crept through the curtains, creating a goldish yellow to wash over the carpeted floor. I glanced around my room with its light beige walls, king-sized bed, massive bookshelves, and my working desk, and suddenly had the urge to get out of the house, feeling queasy. It all felt familiar – the room, the air, the feelings.

It all seemed to mock me.

Laughing at me,

You thought you'd succeed? You're too much of a coward to go through with it, waiting for the ridiculous date to come by.

I threw on a pair of dark jeans under my hoodie and grabbed the car keys before darting out. I made it down the staircase and through the living room, towards the front door. I spotted Mum in the kitchen but I only hurried out saying, "Going out. I'll be back before late".