Remembering Sunday // Jack Barakat

Chapter 4

A/N:

This chapter will basically be about Heather and her living condition and stuff so yeah no Jack action wooah sorry

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As usual, Heather woke up with a pounding headache as a reminder of the massive amounts of alcohol she had consumed the previous night; it was a usual thing, and day by day she seemed to become more immune to it - the headaches lessening in intensity. Covering herself with her thin blanket, she slowly made her way towards the kitchen in search for a bottle of advil and some coffee that she made for herself last night - but since it was cold, a couple minutes in the microwave would suffice. The contents of the pain medication was slowly decreasing in size, reminding the girl that she would have to pick up some more if she ever found the time - or the will - to even leave her apartment for something other than alcohol or drugs. Heather knew that her current lifestyle was far from healthy, but at this point, she was too far in in her struggles to care.

She quickly down a couple of the small capsules with her now warmed coffee and took a seat at her table. The chair beneath her squeaked on impact, giving the impression that within days, it had the potential to give out and break apart. The cheap decor that was around her house was the most that she could afford with the limited amount of money that her parents had sent to her monthly - obviously still mad that she hadn’t told them where she was all those years. She couldn’t blame them, however. She was even mad at herself for leaving, which is one of the very few reasons that she was in the downward spiral of self destruction.

It took all of her energy to make sure that she didn’t allow herself to go back. She couldn’t face the amount of disappointment that she would receive from everyone that she had used to know if she decided just to show up out of the blue.

And most importantly, she wouldn’t be able to force herself to see Jack.

It was obvious that he had already caught onto her drinking problem with the last two phone calls that she had made to him; it was apparent in his voice, as if he didn’t bother trying to hide the sheer disappointment that laced every word that escaped his mouth. One could only imagine that that disappointment will multiply a thousand times if he ever had the chance to see her again - to see the person that she had allowed herself to become. And for that, the thought of her seeing her old friend was pushed far into the back of her mind, and she wished for it to disappear altogether, will all the memories that they had together.

But with every growing day, her past haunted her more and more; her once suppressed memories being forced into her thoughts, moving slowly - as if torturing her - like a slow motion scene, or one of those old black and white silent films.

It was tearing her to shreds, to say the least, and it was like her sanity was a single thread, slowly breaking; destined to snap. This was her second reason for destroying herself.

With every look that she received on the street from bystanders eyeing her rugged appearance up, she could hear the voices in the back of her mind, screaming negative thoughts of what the others were thinking of her. She wanted nothing more but to collapse on the ground in a dramatic haze and yell at them to shut up, until they finally disappeared, as it was that easy. Heather would have to keep herself composed and happy looking until she reached her apartment in the sketchy part of town. She knew exactly what would shut them up, at least for the time being.

Heather kept her stash of a wide assortment of drugs hidden under the floorboards, where no one would bother to look - as if she actually would have someone over anytime soon, and selected a small baggy filled almost to the rim in a fine, white dust like substance, along with a thin razor, before retreating to her living room.

She sat in front of the small coffee table in front of the couch and carefully poured some of the powder out before her, shifting it around with the razor until it formed several lines, littered across the table. With one nostril plugged with her finger, she leant down and breathed in heavily, enjoying the burn that came with the inhalant. She repeated the process until all of the substance was gone, and she leant back, rubbing her nose absentmindedly. Heather hid the drugs back in their spot before once again making her way back to the living room, sprawling out on her couch as she waited for the high to commence.

As soon as she began to close her eyes, a knock on her apartment door interrupted her. She shot up in her seat and raised an eyebrow - confused as to why anyone would want to visit her, since she barely knew anyone in the city. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she slowly made her way towards the front of her apartment, looking through the peep hole for a second to see a somewhat tall man wearing a suit and tie as if it was casual. He let out a small, awkward cough and glanced down at his watch, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for an answer. He lifted his fist once again to knock, just as Heather opened the door.

“Oh! Uh, sorry to interrupt.. I’m Officer Ramsay.”

The girl froze at the mention of the word officer - her mind shifting gears as she began to wonder if her substance abuse had been found out, but her thoughts were quickly deterred from that idea when she heard the next thing that came out of the taller mans mouth.

“I’m here on the behalf of a Mr. Jack Barakat.”

Shit.

Before she could process anything, she slammed the door in the guys face and began pacing the room, muttering profanities to herself. In her mind, this was far worse than her drug abuse being discovered.

She had been found.

It took a minute to compose herself before she returned to the door, not surprised to see the officer standing right where he was a few minutes before. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment, before swinging the door open.

“Look, I’m not going to try to deny that fact that I am the girl that you are looking for - that Jack is looking for, because we both fucking know that I am. Whatever you want, spill it, and then you best be on your way. Oh, and next time you talk to Jack, tell him that he really needs to give up on me.” She chuckled. Her friend had always been persistent, it was probably the one thing that she hated about her skunk-haired best friend.

Officer Ramsay let out a small sigh and shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss, but you are coming with me.” He stated, before grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the apartment.

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A/N:

This is shit 

there's food downstairs and it's calling my name 

pce