The Little Sister (Book 1)

When Will This Goddamn Nightmare End?!

I made my way home and headed straight to the bathroom.

That's where I always go when I cry. 

I immediatley start to sob.

Crying.

Harder than I ever thought I could. 

I grabbed a cup from the counter and fished my razor blade out.

I set it down on the counter and stared at it. 

After a few moments of debating, I finally gave in and picked it up. 

I held it against my wrist and looked at myself in the mirror. 

I saw my make up running down my face, my eyes red and swollen from crying.

"Who am I?" I whispered, then began to sob more.

I looked at my wrist, with the blade held against it.

No, not now.

Not this time. 

I set the razor down and fell to my knees.

Still crying, I pulled my phone out and began to text him.

The man who said he loved me. 

The man who would stroke my hair and kiss my forehead.

I began to type a long paragraph.

"How could you do that to me? I thought you actually meant it when you said you loved me. I thought you wanted to be with me for a long time. How could you -"

Nope. Deletedeletedelete.

"Why?"

There we go. Aaand, send. 

No! No! Unsend! Unsend!

Fuck. Too late. 

I threw my phone to the side and stood up.

And by throw, I mean throw. I think I broke it or something.

Good. I don't want anything that came from him.

I walked out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me. 

I walked over to a bookcase that was placed behind the couch in the livingroom. I skimmed through a Narnia book until I reached the hollowed out part. I pull my pipe and a small bag of weed from it and throw the book on the floor. I set myself on the couch and turn on Netflix. I turn on Lord Of The Rings and set my 'items' onto the coffee table. I got up (Not wanting to at all) and turned off all of the lights. I threw myself back onto the couch and laid myself down. I grab my pipe (It was a long reach) and the pot. I packed up my pipe and pulled the lighter from my pocket. I took a long hit off of the pipe and rested my head on the arm of the couch, looking over at the TV. 

"Fuck, I love LOTR." I said quietly, then went to take another toke. 

 I stared at the ceiling for a bit, then closed my eyes.

As soon as I was about to pass out, I heard Pete open up the front door and close it quietly.

I was startled at first, then I began to remember how much I loved him and how much it hurt when... And now I'm crying. 

"Babe, what's wrong? Why does it smell like pot in here?" Pete asked, leaning over the couch and looking at me.

He whispered a soft 'Oh." when he saw my pipe and lighter on my chest.