eighteen

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the blonde gives up.

he stands in his marble bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror, holding himself up; too weak to stand up on his own.

the dark circles under his eyes were getting more purple by each sleepless night.

he bloodshot eyes never went away.

he cried too much.

when he was awake, he cried.

he search high and low through his oak cabinets. 

he spotted a bottle of pills, grabbing them tightly.

he twisted and turned the top.

too weak to get it open.

the pill bottle popped open with a quiet 'pop'.

the smiled for once in the past week. 

he smiled for the first time this week.

his pain was about to go away. 

finally.

dear jasmine ✿ l.hWhere stories live. Discover now