ST2, ST3, ST4 completed
Billy Hargrove may have just rolled into town, but his reputation may not even compete with a bigger one like Diana's.
"Want to ruin Diana Henderson? You love her."
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#1 in Billy Hargrove
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"If I could be a different person, I promise you I would. Not because I want it, but because they do. And therein lies the catch." –Euphoria
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October 18, 1985
It's a pure dark void when you're dead.
You could only envision darkness. Everywhere you look. But that's after your body completely shuts down. It's like you lose a grasp of your own body, your own flesh. You can watch yourself lose yourself.
I couldn't hear anything, there was nothing. I couldn't even think, at least I don't think I could've, I was dead. As a kid, I thought there was resurrection in the afterlife. Maybe there is, just not for a soul as tainted as mine.
But then it's like suddenly pressure was against some sort of cascade of myself, and my eyes opened to a bright light. At first I thought (because I couldn't before the pressure), I know I fucked up but hey at least God allows me to enter into heaven and not push me off into the arms of Satan!
But then there was a voice. It was Steve's voice. He had called out my name and I adjusted my eyes, I realized I wasn't completely dead, and I still had the ability to think. No one alive knows what it feels like to be dead. I knew I was alive when I saw Steve's mop of hair against my arm, hearing him cry not so silently.
I was balancing on the silver lining between life and death.
After I signed the papers of my consent to go to rehab, my mother simply kissed me on the cheek and promised she'd visit me at rehab but then she quickly excused herself from the picture once again.
It's 45 days. I'll be checked in for 45 days, and the doctor says thats the minimum. She says I show signs of actually wanting to turn my life around but in reality I've only given her my word. She says the road to recovery does not happen overnight and that even after rehab I'll be dealing with the consequences. I'd say I'm not addicted because I don't want a release at this very moment. After signing the papers they told me I would've faced a bit of criminal charges if I didn't agree to the rehabilitation. I can't blame them, if they told me before I would've went solely for the purpose of escaping jail.
I'm not a drug addict. I just couldn't find a way to accept Billy's death. I tried, and tried, and tried, but I never found him. I could only find him in my dreams when I close my eyes, but I now realize they were nightmares. They were nightmares because I had to shoot up bliss through my nose. It never felt right to me that he just disappeared. But I now realize, that whatever happened to his body, he's gone. He would've came back if he wasn't dead.
Billy probably hates me. He's probably ranting to someone up there on how much he hates me. In a way I'm responsible for his death. I could've stopped him from driving off that night, I could've fought harder at the pool. Maybe if I had realized the fireworks were hurting him earlier he would be here. If I had eight arms so I could tend to all his wounds at the mall then he'd be here.
