Gory Glory // l.t au

8 - Leila

Leila

Who the hell does he think he is?! He is the most ungrateful, infuriating person I have ever met! I mean, yeah, I know I can be rude and out of order at times – but at least I can admit it. He makes out to be so damn innocent all the time.

My hands were gripped so hard on the steering wheel that my knuckles had turned white. I was breathing heavily from built-up anger and adrenaline coursing through my body, and my jaw was clenched. I didn't know where exactly I was going, I just needed to be away from him for a while.

I soon found myself parked on the outskirts of the city; the same place I had been with Louis a few weeks ago. I killed the engine and jumped out, strapping my belt of grenades over my torso and grabbing a pistol, attaching a silencer onto it.

I mentally questioned myself as to where I was heading, but I was unsure. I felt as if my brain had shut off and my legs were guiding the way.

I soon found myself in a run-down shop. I couldn't read what it used to be called, as the giant letters from the outside of the store had fallen off. I entered the shop and browsed for a bit, searching for anything of use. My gaze froze on a box of cigarettes behind the till. I wasted no time in approaching the counter and propping myself up onto it, swinging my legs round. I grabbed the packet and stuffed it into my pocket. I hurriedly searched around the store, a new craving overwhelming my other senses and emotions. I found a few boxes of matches and virtually pounced on them. I leaned back on the wall and let myself slide down it until my knees were up. I opened the box of cigarettes and pulled one out, lighting it with the match. I held it to my lips and took a long drag, inhaling the smoke as I let it relax my body. After a few seconds, I exhaled through my nose as I watched the smoke escape. My head fell back and rested against the wall as I slowly shut my eyes in a total state of tranquillity. The anger within me seemed to simmer and die down as I felt myself unwind. I'm not a smoker – only occasionally when I'm stressed. I haven't had one in a very long time, so this was beyond luxurious.

After a few minutes, I finished the cigarette and threw it away. It was only then I allowed my lids to flutter open as I awoke from the make-belief world I had created behind my closed eyes. It was nice to escape the harsh reality I was facing, even if it was only for a minute or two.

My gaze landed on the bottles of vodka beside the counter. How had I missed them before? I heaved myself up and grasped one of the bottles in my hand. I returned to where I was sitting moments ago and unscrewed the cap.

I took a large swig and felt a slight burning sensation run down my throat. It wasn't great quality, but I definitely wasn't complaining. It didn't really taste of much. But I wasn't drinking it for pleasure, for fun. I wanted to escape my world for a while and not have to worry about anything.

My eyes felt sore – they stung a little. I don't believe I've experienced this feeling before. I blinked furiously as my vision blurred with liquid. What's happening? Is this part of getting drunk or something?

To take my mind off it, I tossed my head back and downed the drink. My throat was burning now but I wouldn't allow myself to stop. After I had drunk as much as I could handle, I gasped for breath and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I felt good – light. But I also felt really, really down.

Was it bad that despite everything he had done, everything he'd said, the low blows he'd thrown at me in attempt to make me crack...

I missed Louis.

But I was mad at him. Like, ridiculously mad. I had had to drive away in fear that I would strike him or do something I'd regret. I was beyond livid with him, but by no means did that mean I wanted to inflict pain on him.

I ran my hands through my hair and rested my head on my knees. Here I was, alone once again. I thought that everyone I loved or cared about had left me. But what if...what if it was the other way around? What if it was me that was pushing them away?

I'm slowly, steadily reaching the end of my tether. I don't know how much longer I can go on like this. Constantly on the look out, dodging death each day.

This isn't living.

Far, far from it.

This is a living nightmare.

I can feel the last tiny string of hope I have left slipping from my grasp, my surety of survival falling apart at the seams.

I've let my dad down.

My anger began to boil again, and in a sudden surge of fury, I ripped the locket from my neck, the chain snapping in the process, and hurled it across the room. I slammed my fist back into the wall behind me and slapped my other hand over my mouth as I let out a scream in attempts to muffle the sound. I took a final sip of the vodka, finishing it before smashing it against the ground. My chest was rising and falling as I panted with rage.

A few minutes passed of me sitting alone, the only sound to be heard was my heavy breathing. My anger had died down and I was beginning to feel light-headed. I felt relaxed - but alive at the same time. I hauled myself up and lost my footing momentarily. The room was spinning so I leaned against the wall to regain my balance. Once I believed I could stand without toppling over, I staggered out the shop, but not before grabbing a second bottle of vodka for the journey. I headed down the dusty, cracked road. I took another swig of my full bottle, keeping my gaze on the path ahead. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know what I was planning on doing. I didn't know how long this was going to last.

But I did know one thing.

I just wanted to forget all this.

I wanted the pain to go away.