𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒔

thirteen

"i was never addicted to one thing; i was addicted to filling a void within myself with things other than my own love"

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror, desperately trying to recognize the girl looking back at me.

My vibrant green eyes, once sparkling with life, were now red and puffy, like I had just emerged from an emotional battlefield. Dark circles framed my eyes, remnants of sleepless nights spent battling the chaos in my mind. My usually flawless skin had taken on a sickly pale hue, the result of too many late-night confrontations with my own insecurities.

I felt mentally drained, as if the very essence of who I was had been sucked away, leaving only a shell behind.

"Get it together," I whispered to myself, but the words felt hollow. No amount of self-encouragement could erase the memory of the fight with my mother, which still echoed in my mind like a haunting refrain. "You need to take better care of yourself, Georgina. People are always watching you." Her words dripped with condescension, leaving me raw and exposed.

It was as if my worth was measured solely by how I looked, not who I was.

I felt the weight of those expectations pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe

As I sat there, my thoughts spiraled toward the drug that had taken up residence in my mind.

A hallucinogenic, they said—something that could whisk me away to another universe where colors danced and laughter echoed, where the burdens of my life melted away into the ether.

The thought was intoxicating, a siren call that promised an escape from the heavy chains of my existence.

Deep down, I knew it was a dangerous gamble, especially considering how fragile my mental state had become.

I found myself staring at my phone, the screen reflecting my desperation. Cato had always been my lifeline, a steady presence in the chaos of my life.

I needed to see him again, to talk to him.

I needed to escape.

My fingers flew over the screen as I sent him a message.

from: me
cato
i really need to talk
can you meet me at the park

The minutes crawled by until my phone buzzed with his reply.

from: cato
i'm omw
give me 10 mins

The park was a short walk from my house, but every step felt heavier than the last. I pulled my jacket tight around me, hoping it would shield me from the chill in the air and the chill in my heart.

The familiar rustle of leaves greeted me as I approached, and I spotted Cato leaning against his truck, his silhouette stark against the night sky.

"Hey," I greeted, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

"Hey," he replied, pushing himself off the truck and taking a step closer. His gaze swept over me, concern etched in the lines of his face. "You okay? You look... off."

I shrugged, the gesture feeling flimsy and inadequate. "Just tired, you know?"

He didn't buy it. "What's really going on?"

The honesty in his eyes made my heart race. I took a deep breath, the weight of my thoughts threatening to spill over. "I just was thinking about if you've got any acid."

His expression shifted, the concern sharpening into something more resolute. "You really think a hallucinogenic is going to help you?" His voice was steady, but the intensity of his gaze made it clear he wasn't just going to let this slide.