• Heavy Heart, Heavy Drinking •

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Waking up with a pounding headache is never a good start to the day, but waking up hungover with a migraine and a broken heart.... now thats a whole other type of pain.

Stumbling out of bed past your shattered mirror and into the bathroom was harder than expected, you had to hold onto the wall for support, feeling like you could collapse at any moment.

Then the feeling of sickness kicked in, you've never been known to throw up after a night out, but a mixture of alcohol and heartbreak was sure to have unexpected side effects.

After narrowly making it to the toilet to throw up you took a very needed shower. As the boiling droplets of water consumed your body tears flowed with them.

You rarely ever cried before coming to the hotel. I mean even at your mother's funeral no tears were shed, this didnt go unnoticed by your father which led him to hit you more than usual, then at his own funeral you cried tears of joy..... you were finally free..... or so you thought.

As you were brushing your teeth you heard the hotel room door open, you rushed out of the bathroom toothbrush in hand thinking it would be Sally, but it was Liz... part of you still longed for her to walk through that door.

"How are ya holding up princess" Liz gave a sympathetic smile. She could see the disappointment on your face but it didnt bother her, she understood that you were hurting.

You and Liz ate breakfast together, she had brought pancakes and starbucks. She was honestly a great friend, you felt lucky to have someone who cared. You were so used to not having anyone, not even your own parents cared that you were alive, sometimes they wished you never existed... sometimes you wished that too.

After like two hours of talking Liz left, it was one 1:30pm, you still had hours before work started. Part of you didnt want to go to work today, but singing is always a great distraction.

This was one of the first days that you didnt go to the sacred park bench. You actually didnt leave your room. There was no point in trying to continue your normal life, your heart was grieving your lost love, memories from the first time you and Sally met... well, in this lifetime anyway.

God knows how many times you had met her in past lifes, maybe she really was your soulmate, maybe in every lifetime she had to break your heart... like it was a never ending cycle that was just bound to happen, but this time you were determined to get her back.

Before heading down to work you slipped on the ring, the one that belonged to past you. Leaving the other ring safely tucked away in its pouch.

The hotel bar was definetly a lot busier than usual, normally you'd be lucky to get more than three people in the audience, tonight you had about twenty.

After your shift you sat at your usual place at the bar, drowning your sorrows in whiskey. Sally sat in the corner of the room, you observed as a random guy tried flirting with her. She wasnt interested. You were getting angrier by the minute.

He eventually made his way over to sit beside you, he tried flirting with you... you decided to play a game. You flirted back, Sally's expression was too hard to read.

You went upstairs with the strange man, to his hotel room. You had no intentions of doing anything with him. Except making him suffer. He had pissed you off by coming onto Sally.

You didnt want things to be messy so you opted for strangulation. You had learned a lot from Sally when you had helped her kill a few times.

In your eyes you were doing this for her. You felt nothing while ending his life. Once you had him in a headlock it was over in seconds.

You didnt really know what to do with his body... somebody would find it eventually right? So you left it there in the hotel room.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt good.... great actually. So you went back to your room, and fell fast asleep.

A/N

Schoolwork has been hella stressful, i got my old instagram back up and running..... its 
@ peachyypaulson for anyone wondering ;))

Anyway hope you liked it, I'll try update soon hehe...

~Pam.

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