I Hate You, I Love You

Chapter 9a: "Now my drinks and my feelings are all fucking mixed"

AN: This is the part of the story where suicide is involved. Please read forward with caution.

It had been another couple of days. As each day passed I felt myself sink deeper and deeper into a depression. What was so wrong with me that he had to lie to me? At this point if he didn't want me I kind of wanted to be told so I had the chance to finally move on with my life. I did notice Marshall read my text, but he never replied to it. Or at least, I didn't give him a chance. I had powered my phone off because I kept a constant check on it and it was driving me crazy. 

I had managed to keep my problems in life and my issues with addiction separate always. I don't know how I had managed, but I did. Today however, I wasn't feeling the strength I usually felt when it came to staying sober. I began to question why I should try so hard. Marshall didn't look to me for support or support me. Fuck, he couldn't even keep in contact with me. Today, I possessed no willpower to stay clean. Today, I had no reason to.

I called up my dealer, who I knew through Marshall. I had his number memorized, but also stored in a hidden place in my phone. I called him up and he made it to my house within the hour with just enough pills to get high one time. I paid him and he left. I put the pills in a bottle from the baggie they had been delivered in. I turned the bottle over in my hands as I debated if this was something I truly wanted to do.

As if a sign, my phone rang. It was Marshall, which I wasn't expecting. I answered it. "What?" I said, coldly. "Damn girl. I thought you would be happy to hear from me." he said, in his usual playful tone. He was completely unaware to the dark thoughts I was having on this side of the phone. "I need to see you. Can I come by?" he asked. "No." I said. I kept my voice flat. "Um, is there a reason why?" he asked. "You cheating on me already?" I knew he was joking, but I was in no mood for his antics. "No." I said again. 

I had moved into my bedroom, sitting on my bed. I popped the top on the pill bottle and let the pills spill on the bed. "Hey, what the fuck was that?" he asked, now completely alarmed. "Why the fuck do you care huh?" I asked him. "I ain't heard from you in three fucking days. The last time I said anything to you I told you not to bother and you didn't even have the fucking balls to check on me." I was trying not to cry, but tears had began to fall. "Livie, what the fuck are you doing? Is that what I think it is?" I was purposely moving the pills around on the bed so he could hear them. I was past the point of caring anymore. "That's it. I'm coming. I don't give a fuck what you say." I heard him get into his car. "No need Marshall. By the time you get here it'll be too late." "Livie! LIVIE! Goddamn it! Answer me!" I hung up the phone. 

I got up, I locked my front door, then my bedroom door. I went into the attached bathroom and locked that door. I went under my sink and found a razor. With tears streaming down my face, I sliced my wrists with as much pressure as I could stand. I sat on the floor of my bathroom, and blacked out.