Stevie Nicks was not a stupid girl.
Not at all. Not even a little.
She was top of her class. She could have been anything she wanted (and she was).
No, she was not stupid.
Perhaps she was a bit foolish.
She was definitely reckless.
Definitely, dangerously reckless.
Truth be told, she loved that side of herself. She loved every act of rebellion she had ever done since she was a child. She didn't want to be a bad girl, but sometimes she needed to feel the rush.
That was probably why she couldn't stay away from him.
Sure, the drugs gave her a rush, but it was different. It had become a habit like combing your hair or brushing your teeth. It was just something she did when she woke up alone in the mornings.
The rush he gave her was much more enticing. It was their secret. It was raw and angry and made her ache all over and it was not supposed to be like this because he had a life and a girlfriend and she had a deadly habit and more notches on her bedposts than she cared to admit.
It was a dangerous love, but it is was all they had.
Well, it used to be all they had.
This time her recklessness; her act of rebellion, came with a bigger consequence than she had ever imagined.
Which was fine. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.
God she needed a line right now.
She sat on the floor in front of the table. Set everything up; ready to snort her line, feel herself float away and leave the body that was betraying her so badly.
She sat on the floor.
In front of the table.
With her line on her mirror and the hundred dollar bill rolled up between her fingers (because she had become that person).
She sat on the floor, in front of the table, with her line and....
And she couldn't do it.
She knocked the drug off the table in frustration.
She should be able to do this. She wanted to do this. It was the only thing that would make her feel better; feel normal at this very moment.
She looked around at the mess of white she created and she began to cry. She cried and cried and cried until she couldn't breathe and her lungs felt as broken as her heart.
Soon there would be a knock at the door and it would be him and she would have to pretend she wasn't there.
He was the last person she wanted to see tonight.
Maybe he was the last person she ever wanted to see again.
Or more likely, she would be the last person he would ever want to see again.
Because some how this was all her fault. Everything was always her fault and she was ruining her life because that's what she did; she destroyed her own life and had to destroy his too.
The sick part was Lindsey wanted to be destroyed.
The sick part was they were both sick.
But who would get better first?
