Love Song (LGBTQ+) (COMPLETED)

17. Withdrawer

After leaving the bathroom, I walked out of the bathroom, dropping my towel over my head and proceeding through the doors that had been propped open by doorstops. In the corner, Jay and Lucas were playing some first-person shooter that everyone seemed to have or know about. Joanna sat across from them, making long strokes on the paper with her pencil as though she were drawing something. As for me, I stood alone. As usual.

I made a right and traced the wall into what was some kind of pseudo-kitchen that lacked cooking equipment, yet had a sink and a fridge. Each section of the building had been laid out, for the most part, like a large house. With the fridge door open, I leaned inwards and picked up the closest thing I could grab, which happened to be a more than drinkable water bottle.

Feeling the cold water fall down my throat, I could only wonder if it even mattered if I was there. Sure, I shared a conversation with everyone but Lucas, but that hadn't meant I was accepted or allowed to be around them. It was just okay for me to be there, to just exist. I wasn't even surprised, because I never expected any different.

Just as I was about to make myself scarce, I heard her voice. "Lynn, my office."

In seconds, everyone had gone from ignoring my presence to scorching me with their eyes. How funny was that? They only knew I was there when my name was said. Sure, hindsight says that this was a childish way of thought, but not in the state I was in. When was I last okay with everything, even if it all was dull and grey? I couldn't say, but what I could say was that Grace was involved. Obviously.

I'd said it to her, and I would've said it to everyone. I was useless without her. In my eyes, she made nothing seem like absolutely everything, she made the sun look like the moon, she made the world come to a slow and look at only her. I mean, had I really expected drugs to truly replace her? It was just more foolishness from me. Drugs were only an escape from the ghost of her and the voice in my head. I just wished I learned that earlier.

I was never doing anything more than running on a treadmill while chasing a Twinkie, pretending that I was successfully outrunning my demons, my ghosts, and anything else that wanted to haunt me. It was funny, actually; the things I hadn't been able to see were the things that tried to kill me. The even funnier part was that they were the only things that gave enough of a shit to actually try.

"Fuck off." I continued to and through the door, listening to the slam as I made my way down the ramp under the strength of the early afternoon sun.

At that moment I had been feeling a lot of things inside, both physically and emotionally. I was in pain and pissed, like seriously pissed. I was beyond angry for no reason at all, and it must have looked even stupider to everyone who was looking at me. Stupider than I already looked? I don't think that was possible. I don't think it was possible for me to look any worse in front of anyone. I was still disgusting, that much wouldn't have changed.

Before I had even met the bottom of the ramp, a smaller, soft hand tightened itself around my forearm and tried to pull me back. That hand was met with a nearly reflexive turn and swing as I tried to shove her away. Rebecca stood across from me as her nails started to dig into my arm, her eyes unwavering and wide.

The warm wind blew her hair across her face. "What's wrong? You seemed fine when you came in with Jay."

"What isn't wrong?" I brushed my still-wet hair back. "I'm fucking pissed for no reason and it feels a damn sumo wrestler is sitting on my chest. If that wasn't already bad enough, now it feels like someone rubbed dry ice on my insides."

"Those are all withdrawal symptoms, Lynn. Well, except for the last one." she let go of my forearm and reached back to release her own hair. "The most we can do is give you Catapres, but it's just going to make the whole process take longer. I wanted you in my office to talk about you, what happened to you, and what preventative measures we can take for you, but we can do it out here if you want."