𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑾𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑺 /𝑗𝑗 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑘

𝟎𝟎𝟐.

___________________
𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑮
𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑤𝑜，𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒．
𝟏𝟏:𝟏𝟐 — 𝟑𝟐:𝟏𝟎
____________________

I FELT LIKE a machine without batteries, a mere shell of my former self. The world around me was dull and grey, as if the colors had been drained away, leaving only a monotony of beige and grey. Every room I entered felt colder than it actually was, as if the chill of my own despair had seeped into the very walls. Guilt clung to me like a damp shroud, weighing me down with every step.

But in those rare moments when I succumbed to the allure of drugs, I felt a fleeting rush of vitality. For a brief, shining instant, I was alive again, my senses heightened, my heart pounding with excitement. But that euphoria was always followed by a crushing crash, leaving me feeling empty and hollow.

There were moments when the world became too much to bear, and I would collapse onto my bed, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of my emotions. I longed to escape the prison of my own skin, to disappear into the void. I didn't want to be here, in this place, in this body. I didn't want to be anywhere.

In desperation, I reached for my stash, knowing it was almost gone. I'd used it up in just two days, but I couldn't resist the siren's call of its sweet relief. Another line of the mystery drug beckoned me, promising a temporary reprieve from the crushing darkness that threatened to consume me.

As the sun began to rise, casting its pale light over the room, I knew I had to get moving. School loomed ahead, and I had to put on a mask of normalcy for my friends.

They suspected slightly although they didn't ask, but I knew the truth – that I was barely holding on by a thread.

I lay on my bed, exhausted but unable to sleep. The weight of my secrets pressed upon me like a physical force, making it hard to breathe. But I knew what I had to do. I forced myself to sit up, rubbed the remnants of last night's drug haze from my eyes, and began to get ready for another day of pretending.

The notion of having nine lives like you here cats have has always fascinated me. I often find myself lost in the fantasy of living multiple existences, each one a chance to redeem, to try again, to get it right.

If I were to have nine lives, I'd use the first one to drown, to succumb to the crushing weight of my own despair. The water would seep into my lungs, stealing my breath, and perhaps, in that moment of unconsciousness, I'd find a fleeting sense of peace.

But the other eight lives would be spent differently. I'd use them to live without fear, to love without reservation, to cherish every moment with those who matter most. In my second life, I'd spend it with Susan, learning her secrets, listening to her regrets, and holding her hand as she takes her last breath. I'd have saved her from Rafe's grasp, and in doing so, would have given her the peace she deserved.