𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫? - 𝐓𝐌𝐑 𝐀𝐔, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨

040 - addiction

The drugs have taken over.

When my eyes open, I realise I was out for twenty–four hours. A whole day.

I passed out again.

Yay!

I don't know if anyone has come to see me in the past day, but I hope not; the pills are covering the ground, I look absolutely horrible, and I think Minho would no longer be attracted to me the same way as I am to him.

And it would suck.

Honestly, it already sucks. The world doesn't feel real; the drugs are taking effect. They already have, but now it just feels like I'm existing, not living.

I want to live. But I can't anymore.

The world is a haze of dizziness. Everything is a blur. My memories are fading away. My vision is fuzzy. Nothing is right. Not anymore. I've lost myself in the drugs. I've loved her so much that now she's gone and I can't love myself. And now I'm ruined.

Now I'm messed up.

Now I'm like a sea wreck; I've drowned in pills.

Now I'm gone.

The girl I was? That sweet, funny girl? She's gone. And I don't know if I can bring her back. She's addicted now. She's lost. She's broken. She's left crying in a treehouse, half of her hoping her boyfriend will come, half not. I know he probably doesn't want to come; I've been pushing him away.
So I decide to be the bigger person. I decide to at least try.

My boyfriend

10:17 pm

You

Hey, Minho?

Can we talk?

I'm sorry for not talking earlier

I was feeling horrible

I hope you even want to talk to me

Sorry for pushing you away

And if you don't want to talk, I understand

I wait for ten minutes, staring at the screen, but get no reply.

Reflecting on it now, I wish I hadn't taken the pills. If only I could go back three days and undo everything, make a different choice, and resist the urge. Maybe things would've been different.

I wish.

My phone buzzes with a notification, and hope surges through my chest.

My boyfriend

10:27 pm

My boyfriend

Can't sorry

I sigh, and try my best to type a response back that doesn't seem desperate, even though I am desperate.

You

Oh, okay

Talk sometime?

My boyfriend

Yup, gtg

Talk to you later

Bye

"I love you," I whisper to myself, barely audible, as if saying it out loud might somehow make Minho say it, but he doesn't. Why would he? I haven't either yet, so why should I expect him to?

Since I'm stuck alone with my thoughts, I do the only thing that helps me—take more pills. I take four, swallowing them with a gulp of water.

Usually the feeling afterwards is good, but this time it's a wave of guilt.

I feel like I'm falling down a dark rabbit hole.

I feel like I'm trapped in a maze with no way out.

I feel like I'm driving down a long road with no map.

I feel like I'm caught in a downhill spiral.

I feel like every turn I take is leading me further away from my true self.

And I don't like it. At all.

Then, the pills take effect and the world finally becomes the familiar blur. My body gets the rush that I depend on; The feeling of euphoria, my body letting go of all the tension and finally relaxing. The noises in the background fade away as my mind stops racing, and I feel amazing.

Every time the rush hits, it feels impossible to stop myself. My body acts on its own, like it's no longer mine to control. My hand instinctively reaches for the pills, as if they're the only thing keeping me alive.

They probably are.

My hands shake, but it isn't from fear. It's from the desperate need for more pills. The clawing hunger inside me, begging me for more. Without them, every memory of Teresa comes flooding back, and I can't deal with it. Without my pills, everything's unbearable. They let me drift away.

I know I shouldn't take more. I know it's ruining me. I know I'm probably killing myself. But I can't stop. My body has developed a need for the drugs. It's a craving, and to satisfy myself I need to take more, but it's never enough. Never enough. I'll always need more, no matter what.

Because the crash that happens afterwards is worse than anything else. The nausea, the headaches, the confusion, the way I continue to lose consciousness. But the worst thing about it is the guilt. The guilt for taking the drugs. The guilt for pushing everyone away. Yet the only way to stop it is to take more.

And I can't stop myself anymore.

I don't feel like anything makes sense anymore.

I don't feel in control anymore.

I don't feel joy anymore.

I don't feel love anymore.

I don't feel hope anymore.

I don't feel like me anymore.

I'm not me anymore.

I'm a monster.