Bradga Short Stories

Princess Die [TW]

This will be EXTREMELY triggering and sad, so if you're not in the right mindset or in any way ready to read this, please don't. If you or someone you know are struggling reach out to someone you trust or DM me! I let my own experiences and thoughts flow into this chapter and it's a very accurate representation of what goes on inside of one's mind when they want to die, which is why it's triggering. Anyway, if you've decided to stay and read this then I hope you can 'enjoy' it somehow. You're loved, never forget that.

My mind was so full of everything all at once but still so empty and quiet. I couldn't take the way my eyes only allowed to let me see everything in a foggy slow motion effect even though the world kept turning and everyone around me kept moving on. How could they all move and laugh while I was struggling so much with catching my breath? Why was it so hard for me to breathe?

I slowly let my hand move up to my throat only to notice that there was indeed nobody and nothing choking me. It was all inside of my head.

I held onto the table next to me and watched everyone chat, I could hear them but couldn't make out a single word, it sounded like everyone was so far away, yet they were right next to me. "Stef, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes!" I assured them. It was the only thing I knew how to do. Pretend I was okay.

Truth was that I wasn't okay and I hadn't been in a very long time. The trauma in my hip, the fibromyalgia pain, the relationships in my life falling apart and the fame, it all had gotten to me. I didn't notice the way it crept it's way into my body, under my skin and it was a very slow process yet when it happened, it happened and suddenly it was all there. All the pain I had tried to hide and conceal was now consuming my every thought and my whole body could feel it. I felt cold and hot and everything was too much. I was too much. I couldn't stand myself. Every time I touched something it hurt. It physically pained me to be alive.

That night when I got home I slowly undressed myself. I looked at myself; my skinny legs, the collarbones peaking through my skin, the moles on my body and every curve and bump. I noticed it all, what people saw and what I saw. I brushed my hair, painted my nails, I put on make up and then took it off again. I curled my hair, straightened it and then curled it again.

This wasn't a usual breakdown. It wasn't as painful as the others before it. It was relieving, freeing and I didn't shed a single tear. I smiled and laughed, I remembered what my mom smelled like when she held me when I was a child and how my dads food tasted on my tongue. I remembered playing old songs on my keyboard at The Bitter End in New York City and what my dogs fur felt like under my fingertips. I could taste the tears inside of my mouth from when A Star Is Born aired in Venice and I remembered him.

Oh, how I remembered him. He didn't have a clue, did he? He didn't know I was home now, by myself. He didn't know he'd hurt me beyond anything I've ever felt before when he left me. He didn't know that he was the last straw left, my beginning and my ending. He was the freshest breeze of air and managed to suck all air out of my lungs at the same time, in a split second. How I wished he was here.

I wrapped my arms around my naked body and shut my eyes so tightly they hurt. I imagined it were his arms holding me. They always managed to bring me back to reality, keep me sane, save me.

I swayed around the silent room and hummed myself a lullaby, you're music to my eyes.

"I had to listen just to find you." I heard his voice and my eyes snapped open just to find the room still empty and silent again.

I laughed at my own stupidity and opened a bottle of whiskey, swaying around the room, dancing to music that wasn't there with a smile on my lips. How I wished he was here to catch my fall, but even I knew he wouldn't come. He was gone.

I took a big swig of the burning alcohol and whinced at the taste. It felt like acid running down my sore throat and reminded me of the fact that I was indeed still alive. I took another sip, another and another until I couldn't remember where I was, who I was and why I was here. Why was I even here?

I didn't even notice when I fell onto the rough carpet and only noticed I was bleeding when I brushed my fingers against my knees. "Oh, the poor carpet!" I said to myself or the carpet and rubbed some blood off of the beige fabric before I spilled some whiskey on it. I giggled at my own stupidity and dragged my body onto the couch.

I didn't know how much time passed as I stared up at the ceiling and counted the stars. There were no stars and none to count. The only star in this room was me and I was about to crash from the sky and burn out.

Ring.

I didn't move at the sound the first time but when it rang a second time I reached out my hand to my phone. The bright display blinded my sensitive eyes as I let my shaky finger swipe across the screen. "Hello?" I chirped into the device, not really listening to what the person on the other line said.

It sounded like gibberish to me anyway. That's when I noticed the empty bottle of pills on the floor, the hundreds pieces of paper and my bloody knees from kneeling down on the ground to write them for hours on end without stopping.

"Stef, can you hear me?" It was him.

I suddenly could hear him again, his voice was crystal clear and I didn't imagine it this time. Why was he calling? Did he know something wasn't right? Could he still feel me the same way I could feel him all the time?

"Bradley?" I asked or at least I thought I did. I didn't feel the words come out of my mouth.

"Stef, are you okay?" He asked again and I heard him shuffling around through the phone.

"Mhm." I hummed, not being able to get out much more. I felt my eyes droop closed and it took everything in me to open them again.

"I'm coming over. I knew something wasn't right." He said and I shook my head even though he couldn't see it.

"Tired. M'just tired." I mumbled again but the line went dead already. I listened to the monotone humming of the disconnected call until light flooded the room. I barely felt his arms around me and when I was inside of his arms, right where I belonged, I finally let go.

It started with him and it ended with him.