heroine ;;kellic

12;; can i replace you

I've been up all night staring at the ceiling. I don't remember the last time I was sober. I've tried going into work but I either get sent home early or I just flat out don't make it there. Justin always looks at me with sympathy in his eyes but it's just barely visible behind the disappointment and worry. I know I'm choking on the medicine that I keep drinking but it's too late. I took the fork in the pathway and I have to live with that decision.

I've considered trying to stop but it doesn't feel worth it. When I get the enthusiasm to try and actually live a life, the withdrawal and flashbacks and emotions set in and I give up. If I have the option of being high and drowning everything else out, why wouldn't I pick it?

One thing couldn't leave my mind though — Vic. And what happened the last time he was here. I kissed him and then everything went to shit. It's like I'm swimming in the fire and the walls keep spinning. I'm treading water but it's hopeless.

The devil's living in my head but the monster is me. I'm upside down and I hate the feeling. Why am I always on the brink of losing it all? Am I just wasting my time? It's a punch to my face; it's a knife right in the back; it's a bullet to the head.

I try to stop the overthinking spiral by distracting myself, making stupid patterns out of the popcorn ceiling. I can't concentrate, though. I still keep picturing Vic's face when I was lying on the floor and he was running out the door, leaving.

I don't think I can be safe from what I'm running from. I want to kill the pain I feel inside. The last two years of my life are so filled with regret. I want to say that the drugs don't matter at all but they do. They're why I'm swimming in the bottle that makes me feel small. I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim. My back is against the wall.

I had to get out of here. The walls were closing in and it was suffocating. I don't remember the last time I left the apartment, but I was losing it. I don't really know where I'd go, but even just for a walk around the neighborhood — if you could call it that — would be sufficient, I guess.

I swing my legs off the bed and stand up, feeling the blood rush through my veins. I haven't moved in hours and my legs were asleep. I nearly fell over but I caught myself on the cardboard box I used as a bedside table. I breathe in heavily, trying to maintain my composure. If I was going to leave the house, I needed to maintain some semblance of normalcy. God knows I don't need to have 911 called on me.

I walked over to my couch, grabbing my jacket. It was chilly outside but nothing unbearable. The worst of the winter was over, which I was thankful for. I was moderately jealous that Kailey lived in the sunshine state. I suppose it helped with her battle with seasonal depression. It's not like Medford, Oregon, where it was depressing every single day. There is no sunshine here. Just rain, clouds, and sadness.

I guess Florida isn't the only state I've considered moving to, if I could even ever afford to do so. I've heard Vic talk to his friends about how he was staying in California after high school. I wonder why he came back. If I left, I wouldn't come back. Not unless I had no other choice.

Justin has always talked about moving to Michigan. But he never liked that idea, so no matter how much Justin and I used to dream in high school about getting a house in Grand Rapids and starting a rock band, I knew it'd never be reality. And considering that Justin probably hates me now, it's still a crushed thought. It hurts to think about the fact that Justin has probably replaced me with Gabe and Jesse.

I mean, it's not like Gabe and Jesse were bad guys. But now they're even in a band together. Justin and I always wanted to start a band. We came up with some stupid names, but the one we thought we'd always go with was Sleeping with Sirens. We goofed around and came up with some other ones, like Our Name In City Lights, but it felt too long or not the right sound. But now that Justin has For All We Know, that's all he needs. He doesn't need me anymore. Maybe he never needed me in the first place.

Justin was always my rock and he's probably sick of it. We've been best friends for over ten years. I've known him since middle school, when we met in seventh grade English class. He came up to me, said he liked my shirt, and it was history. It is history. There's no more fun moments like that. And that's my own damn fault.

I jogged down the three flights of stairs to the ground floor and exited my building. It was a little windy but the brisk breeze across my face didn't bother me. If anything, it was helping with the fact that I was kind of sweating. I'd taken more than I ever have before today, but it wasn't like, an overdosing amount. At least, I was pretty sure it wasn't. My tolerance had built up such a ridiculous amount over the last few months, I was sure it'd take a horse tranquilizer to get me high by this point.

I looped around the street and decided I'd walk to the nearest park. It wasn't really much of a park, but it was something that I could at least be at without looking remotely suspicious. What's weird about some random lonely guy sitting on a park bench? Nothing. A weird random lonely guy wandering the streets absentmindedly? That's weird.

As I walked, I popped another pill in my mouth like it was candy. I swallowed it dry, wincing at the bitter taste. Supposedly, these were supposed to taste like popcorn. Either Nick is a dirty liar, or he gave me the wrong thing. In the end, it doesn't really matter. They accomplish the thing I want them to, and that's keeping me in my own bubble. I'm just trying my best.

I sat down on the only bench in the park. It was at the top of a small hill, which overlooked the street. It was quiet. There was really no traffic here, let alone in the entire town. It was kind of peaceful. I could die here and I think I would be okay with that.

I felt my eyes getting heavy and they were starting to become troublesome to keep open. Breathing was feeling like a chore too, but I figure that's just because I'm tired. Opioids will do that to you.

"Kellin?" I hear my name called out. I open my eyes slowly and look around, but I don't notice anybody there. I can't really see that well either, everything is fuzzy and blurry. Maybe I need to see an eye doctor. Or maybe I just really am that tired. It's not like I've slept very well since the last time Vic and I spoke.

"Kellin!" I hear again, but I still can't figure out where it's coming from. I have to be hearing things. I roll my eyes and ignore it. Keeping awake is becoming a real hassle. I breathe in and out incredibly slowly, but it was relaxing. I felt so relaxed. I felt like I was in a dream world. Maybe I am in a dream world. This is not reality. I am dreaming.

"Kellin, can you hear me?" the voice asks me. I grumble, not really wanting to be interrupted. I am really out of it, but I wasn't bothering anybody. I squint my eyes at the object in front of me, and realize it is somebody. It is somebody that I know. They know me.

I stare at him, blinking lazily. My breathing is still leisurely. The man looks at me with his chocolate brown eyes, worry lacing every cell. His long brown hair is falling into his face as he moves frantically. He's grabbing my hands, grabbing my arms, lifting my head up. I don't know why he's touching me so much but I don't fight it. I don't really have the energy even if I wanted to.

"Oh, God, Kellin," he whimpers, tapping my cheek softly. I roll over to the side and let gravity take control.

"'M fine," I mumble, pushing his hand away. Attempting to, at least.

"No, you're not," he says firmly. "Kellin, you're turning blue."

"Mmm, like blue," I giggle lethargically. "'M gon' sleep."

"No no no, Kellin, you gotta stay awake!" he yells, tapping my cheek again. I shake my head but it feels so heavy. Everything attached to me is heavy. My hands are heavy. My chest is heavy. I don't really want to breathe anymore, it's too much work.

"Mmmm..." I trail off, sighing. "Night night."

And then I'm out.