PULSE [H.S]

080

"Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise." — Victor Hugo

I close the envelope.

I run my tongue along the border of the flap, wetting the surface. I press it down, sealing the envelope shut. I take out a pen and write 'Pen' on the front of the envelope.

She's the only person I trust.

I hope with everything I have left in me that she never gets brought into any of this. I think the world of Niall, especially after everything he's done for me recently, but I learned the hard way what loving someone like him does to you.

I don't want Pen to live the same life as me. It's her decision to make, but anyone who would willingly choose this life over a safe, normal one is out of their damn minds.

I never should have chosen it—chosen him.

Niall must be starting to trust me because he left the apartment an hour ago to go do something and hasn't come back yet.

Well, he shouldn't trust me.

I pull the bottle of pills from my bag and hold the orange container in my hands.

My world stops again when I see the orange pill bottle on the ground next to her, and all of the small white pills spilled out onto the carpet.

A lump forms in my throat.

I understand now, Mom.

I always wondered if my mom planned to overdose that day. She either wanted to get high and accidentally took too many pills, or she wanted to die and did it on purpose. I'm not sure which one is worse to think about.

As I sit here, choosing the latter, I really question it.

I get a glass of water from the kitchen and then head back upstairs. I sit on the ground, sliding against the wall near the door to Harry's bedroom. There's still no actual door on it.

Everything hurts.

I don't know how I am supposed to go on living like this. I don't want to go on living like this. I can't do it. I mean, what's the point anyway? If I keep living, I'll end up dead at some point, regardless.

There's no getting out of Elias's grasp, and I'm not turning everyone in just to escape all of this.

So I'm escaping in my own way.

I was suicidal after my sister went into her coma. She was my reason to live, and just like that, she was gone. For a long time, all I wanted was to not be alive anymore. I made plans to end it all several times, but when the time came, I could never bring myself to do it.

I hated myself for a while. I hated that I wasn't brave enough to bite the bullet and end it. I didn't have the courage that it took to pull the trigger.

My therapist said I was delusional for thinking that committing suicide was brave.

Well, fuck her.

Fuck Harry Styles.

Fuck this cartel.

Fuck this shitty life.

My body is numb. I've experienced so many emotions this past month that I have absolutely nothing left in me to give. I'm numb to all of it.

I open the pill bottle, dumping enough pills in my hand to kill a horse. It's a quick, painless way to go. I'll be so high from the drugs that I won't even feel the pain of the overdose.

Dying can't hurt more than this.

"I'm sorry, Rae," I whisper.

I know I've failed her. I'm leaving her in this world alone. If she ever wakes up, she won't have a family. But she might never wake up, and this world is too much to bear without her. I know she will understand someday. Just like I finally understand what happened with Mom.