Lethal Love

7 ; Almost Like Magic

A/N: 

There is a reference to self harm in this chapter, just a warning.

---

'Waiting for a plot twist that will change my life'. That's what it always felt like I was doing. Waiting for a great plot twist that would just change everything. Make everything crystal clear. 

I always felt like I was in a draft of a text waiting to be edited. Waiting to be written, even.

And I always loved the idea of a plot twist. It was something unknown. Something exciting. Almost like magic.

But the plot twists that had come my way lately could go fuck themselves.

It's two am. Maybe three. I don't know. I'm too tired to care. I'm in front of my mirror again, but my reflection is not passive this time. 

It's absolutely terrifying. 

How ironic that 48 hours ago I felt like I had cried without reason and now I couldn't stop. 

My eyes are bloodshot red and my cheeks are wet. My frame seems to cave in on itself more and more by the second. 

I can see my chest heaving as I hitch on my tears.

I feel so paralyzed it's sickening. But at the same time I want more. More numbness. Because this is unbearable. 

I can't breathe. Images of my mother sitting in the bathtub run through my mind.

She was just sitting there. So still. Like she was at peace. And I guess in a way she was. 

Because thats what she knew she'd get when she did it, right? Peace.

I don't believe in religion. I don't believe in God, or Jesus. Yet, I believe there is such a thing as a heaven.

I don't think heaven is a place though, but rather a destination that can only be reached through your spirit. And I believe you reach that destination when you let go of everything holding you down. Every destructive thought, every heavy emotion. For those are the things keeping you from going up. From flying to heaven.

I also believe there is such a thing as hell. And if you die without a sense of peace. Without a sense of relief. And without a sense of serenity. Then you will fall down, to hell.

And even though I don't really believe in God, I'm now praying that my mom let go. 

That in her last moment, she just let go of everything. That her last breath was spent breathing out everything toxic.

I'm so angry. I'm furious. At her. At myself. At the universe. Why would she just leave us like that? How could she be so selfish? Were we not enough for her? Was I not enough? Not perfect enough? Why do it now? Why not earlier? Or not at all? Nothing had changed lately.

And then my anger shifts to my dad. Why hadn't he done anything? How could he not notice? Why would he let this happen? He must've known. They loved each other for Gods sake! He must've known something was up.

I want to smash the mirror. I want to shatter the glass in a thousand different shards, hoping some of them will cut me deep enough to distract me. Take my mind away. If only for a second.

I consider doing it. I've done it before, and it helped. 

But only for a moment. And when the moment was over I felt worse than before it came.

I don't understand any of it. I'm not sure I want to either.

I turn to my bed. Hailee is sound asleep in it.

She came over as soon as I told her. She was crying and we were just a big mess. I told her to stay with Tyler, but she refused. She insisted on staying with me. 

Besides, Tyler bolted the minute the policemen and doctors came. He just left. And I was so angry with him when he did. But I couldn't blame him either. He probably felt just as I did. He needed an escape. I was worried, but he was a smart kid. He wouldn't do anything too stupid. 

I trusted him. I had to. 

I was too tired not to.

Thoughts are running wild in my head and I need them to stop. To calm down. That is all I crave.

I walk back to the bed, gently lying down. I feel tears seeping out at the edges of my eyes. 

But I ignore them. They've been falling ever since I saw death in the flesh. And I'm tired of trying to catch them when I know they'll just continue to fall.

So I just lie there, trying to think of rainy days and good books and old songs. I'm trying to think of happy pictures but they all just reshape into something ugly before they vanish completely. 

I'm thinking about my dad. And suddenly I feel guilty for being angry at him. 

He just lost his wife, his best friend, his soulmate. He lost his forever.

How do you continue on when you loose something like that? 

I've read countless romance books, in which there is always a point in the book where the lovers separate. And they describe it as worse than dying. And then they do everything in their power to get back together.

But what do you do when there's nothing left? When the one that got away is literally in another universe.

I think about the universe and alternate universes. Is my mom still alive in an alternate universe?

The last thing I remember before blackness overpowers me is seeing stars dance over me before taking shape as my mothers beautiful eyes. 

---

A/N:

I love writing chapters like these, even if they're kinda depressing. My heart is breaking for Adeline though:( 

Please vote and comment!

xoxo