𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦

THIRTY-TWO

"Your deader than ever."

32

"I used to be happy," my voice comes out hoarse, like I haven't spoken in years. "I mean... really happy, like—" I pause, searching for the right words. "Like bad things couldn't touch me. As if the world was just... full of light."

Charlie sits on the couch, gripping a half-empty bottle of vodka, smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers. Meanwhile, I lie flat on the floor, eyes fixed on the side of an empty bottle. The room is thick with the smell of smoke and the heavy residue of a long, painful few hours.

"What changed?" His voice breaks through the silence. I shift my head, glancing at the stranger across from me.

My lips tremble, "Men."

My eyes grew cloudy, he nods slowly as if he understood. He probably didn't, but it didn't matter. I wasn't talking for him.

I close my eyes letting the remains of the narcotics do a trick in my body, a soft smile tug at my lips, I feel my eyes get distant.

"I'm not sure if it was the time I spent with my ex, or the vacation in Brazil when I was very young.... I would laugh so hard I couldn't breathe... everything was so easy back then." I murmur as my smile falters just a little. "I used to love running barefoot in the summer."

"Somewhere along the way things became broken, but I had to grow up... didn't I?" A bitter laugh left my lips, then a tear slips from the outer corner of my eye hitting the floor.

"I get you." I pause slowly sitting up, he blinks nervously at my reaction, "I-I mean I grew up in all boys and foster homes. I remember thinking life was one big playground. Then one day it's just not. My mum left— I went into the system—and I never quite figured out how to play after that."

"Guess we ended up chasing something we couldn't find." Charlie nods slowly, the silence stretching between us thick with unspoken understanding.

We talked, laughed and let the conversation flow like a river, unfiltered and raw. Stories of heartbreak, of dreams gone wrong, spilling out like a confession between us. No judgements, but a shared desire to forget the weight of our lives, if only for a little while.

The room spun in a beautiful blur, the high stretching until it felt like the day lasted forever.

•••

Hours passed, I open my eyes from the nap I fell into, the sun was here setting lazily outside, music playing softly in the background. I got a flash of happiness, I'm still in the same position then before, no Reign, no restraints, no violence, no blood, just freedom.

I wince trying to get on my feet, my back aches from laying on the floor. I look around for Charlie, but then I see another prepared line on the table.

I smile, a little hesitant, but the weight of how I ended up in this position felt heavier than any uncertainty. I move to snort the line of cociane, the rush of warmth spreads through my chest as the world shifted.

I exhale slowly, feeling the fog of my harmful memories dissipate. Suddenly I feel like dancing, I move in a fluid rhythm, my body swaying and spinning in a trance, the world fading away as I dance alone, intoxicated by the freedom of the moment— the beat seemed to echo in my bones, a melody feels so good.

I grab the bottle tilting it to my lips, the harsh burn of vodka slipping down my throat as I drank directly from the neck, finishing the rest.