XVII

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"I used to cry
But now I don't have the time
I used to be so fragile
But now I'm so wild"

2 years ago

I wake up in a strange bed at noon and I feel like puking my insides out. My stomach is aching, the throbbing in my head is making me want to die.

Looking around, I don't know where I am. I don't know who this guy is. Looks like the dude who bought pills from my dealer in the local club last night.

I groan when I remember I owe him fifty bucks. What day is it today? Everything is in a weird haze. I need to go home.

Where are my clothes? Fucking hell I don't remember anything.

"Hey," the stranger's rough voice is making my head pound harder.

"Shut the fuck up," I plead before willing myself to get up.

New routine.

I'm not sure I like this person I have turned into, but I don't have the energy to ponder it.

These aspects of my new lifestyle are ugly and nauseating, but every time I get the explosion of chemicals and visions in my brain right before everything goes black, I swear, it's the only thing that gets me by these days.

On the way home I check my phone and see several messages and missed calls from people I used to be close with.

Why can't everyone just leave me alone?

I've worn myself out, like an old winter coat. Do I need anyone? No.

Not anymore.

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