My parents asked me how school was over dinner and I said fine.
It wasn't fine.
It wasn't fine.
It wasn't fine.
My mind screamed. Too bad they couldn't hear it. They'd be upset if I told them I was falling off the wagon. They'd say "We should take you back to the doctors" but I was already a burden. I hated myself. Thanks Will.
George was keeping me sane. He checked up on me every hour. Calling me telling me he loved me. I wanted to go over there and hug him but his parents told me they were certain he was getting high at school so they banned me from seeing him until he stopped. He told his parents that he wasn't high. But they didn't believe him despite searching his room and not finding anything. He told me he would stop. For me. For us.
You already thought he was a junkie after you heard me shout at him over the phone.
But who cared? Whether my boyfriend was a junkie or not I loved him.
"He doesn't love you."
Your voice made me dizzy. Your words cut my skin deeper than any blade could. Why were you doing this to me?
You're killing me.
Help me.
Somebody.
Anybody.
