|| WARNING: Heavy consumption of alcohol, self-doubt, suicide attempt, sensitive content.
. . .
"I need some emotional support right now. Can I talk to you?"
ᴛᴇxᴛ sᴇɴᴛ: 5:42 P.M.
--
The first snow of winter finally hit Ohio. A warm glow emitted from the houses of its residents, and the mittens and hot chocolate broke out. While some were excited for the new snow (mainly children), there were others who hated it. They hated everything about it, from the cold to the feeling of the white, powdery feeling under their feet.
Josh hated to admit that he was the latter in the poor state of mind he was in. Lately, he was feeling as if he lost a lot -- debatably, everything. He felt that he'd lost his girlfriend, countless friends..he'd lost contact with family, and was feeling his best friend slip from his grip ever so slowly. They hadn't really talked or connected for awhile, and it was eating at Josh.
It was definitely taking a toll on his mental health.
"God damn," He whispered to himself as he opened the door to his apartment, throwing a bag holding a plethora of bottles on the couch with care. Reuniting with everyone wasn't easy or fun. After months of not returning texts or calls, Josh presumed he deserved it. There was a thick tension in the air as he entered his parents' house. The last time they talked, he told them news. Bone-chilling, nerve-wracking news that left him feeling sick as he recalled that day.
His fingers were bright red from the cold, bound to revert to its original colour in no time. The male wasted no time in heating up his Keurig, in need of some warm water to make tea. He shed his coat and gloves off, feeling his numb hands tingling with the overwhelming sensation of warmth. They still glowed a bright red, changing slowly to a more natural hue.
He watched his kitchen light flicker aimlessly, getting a rhythm. Every few minutes, it'd flicker again, only to burn brighter after. It annoyed Josh. It felt like a flicker in his mind, going off over and over again.
He put it in the back of his mind, but it still flickered on and on and on.
--
A few hours passed. No texts of reassurance. No phone calls to check up on him. Josh presumed that he deserved it, especially after how he pushed everyone away during the tour. He hadn't exactly been the most sociable of people.
And now, he was paying for it hard.
They'd been off tour for weeks now. He hadn't made any plans. He hadn't been talking to anyone. Hell, he called his parents and asked to see them, and that tension only made things worse.
He really messed up.
And now he was going to pay for it.
There was a strong, paralyzing flicker in his mind. Josh dropped his long-empty mug, watching it crash on the floor. He didn't even flinch.
When the flicker ended, he felt a trickle of blood down his leg.
Shit.
--
9:45 PM.
"A bottle can't hurt," He thought to himself as he popped open a bottle of whisky. "To the only thing that won't abandon me. Thanks, Jack Daniels.."
A sarcastic, painful laugh.
He wanted to forget, just for a night.
--
2:30 AM.
Nothing from Tyler. Nothing from his mother. Nothing from his father. Nothing from his brother or sisters. Nothing from his girlfriend. Five empty bottles of whisky lay on the floor, and a sixth was rolling out of his hands.
