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"Arielle, explain to me what happened?" Ethan asks.
I take a deep breath before I spill on how I ended up with a cut on my face and look like a hot mess.
"Silas," I mumble.
This is the bits and pieces of my heartbreak, the reason why today I'm a broken mirror, a crumbled up piece of paper. The reason why I'm duct taped into a whole.
I tried to remember when everything went wrong, what I did that was wrong. I remember his rough touch on my body; every grip left a mark. A mark on what was once his territory. I remember when he left these bite marks on my neck, these marks, the art he made to explain our love. But no, it wasn't loved, it was toxic.
He snorted up some coke on my bare stomach and leaves kisses down to the hem of my underwear. I was on a high like I always was.
"I love you." He purrs.
You know, the heart gets confused when it's continuously told I love you by the same person who destroys it.
The neon lights reflect from his bloodshot green eyes. He flashes a devilish smile showing off his dimples I adored.
"Mmmm what time is it?" I groan.
He gets up from the bed and walks over to his phone. "12:38," He says.
I plop up toward my purse and rummage through it looking for my medication bottles.
"What are you looking for?" He asks.
"My meds, I have to take them at night." I grab the bottles and start to open them and grab a water bottle.
The bottle gets snatched from my hand, and the other bottles get taken away. He walks over to the bathroom in the hotel room and empties them.
I run to the bathroom with fear in my eyes. "Silas! What the fuck?!" I shout.
Trying to save the remaining pills, Silas gets down on the floor with me with his hands cupped on my face.
"You don't need them; you're perfect the way you are. Those make you a zombie; I like you better without them." He tells me. My eyes are glued to the toilet in shock. "Look at me." He whispers.
I stare into the devil's eyes. See, thanks to my mother I suffer from Bipolar disorder. And thanks to daddy's money I can afford to get me through my mood swings, my highs, and lows, my episodes with some bottles of medicine that can help me. Silas believed it was all bullshit. That everyone just doesn't want me to be me.
"Let's have fun." He growls.
I remember drinking my pain away, drinking my problems away, drinking to get through it all. Silas invited some friends, and a small gathering turned into a party. The music controlled my body; my eyes roll back after I take a shot. I get nudged on my side, and I get passed a rolled hundred dollar bill. I snort the coke off the mirror and take a drag of a joint.
