leaked (l.h.)

14

t.w.// su*cide attempt

One, two, three... around twenty or so of my Step-Father's old codeine pills rest in the palm of my hand. They're so small. So... dainty. They look bigger than they are in my tiny hands, and as I run my fingertip across them I wonder if they'll hurt on the way down.

I bring my knees up to my chest as I sit on the side of my bed farthest from the door which I have locked shut. The room I sit in is dark,
The only light is what escapes from under the curtains. But other than that, my phone is half way across the room. I've got a minute or so until Tyler escapes his last class before his daily trip to the parking lot where he used to always meet me. Which means I've got about two until my everything is shown to everyone. Tyler isn't patient, and that is something I have learned before. I was reminded of it the other day.

I think it's funny, how one week could break me down as badly as it did. How my optimism was replaced with constant fear and paranoia, and the sort of flashbacks that come with thought of Tyler and what he had made me do is enough to drive even sane crazy. If I had kept that photo to myself, if I had broke up with Tyler when I had found out he was trying to pursue other girls I would never have been in the position where I am now. Giving him bits and pieces of me until there is none left for myself.

I hold the bottle of water between my legs, my tear stained hoodie is slowly starting to dry. It won't be long until the pain is over and I'll finally be free. Finally released from Tyler's hold. And maybe then someone would see that I need someone to talk to.

"I guess I was running to something," I find myself singing Luke's words to myself as I twist open the cap of the water bottle off. "I was running back to you."

I guess I finally figured out what my favorite song was.

"Nothing like the rain when you're in outer space," I sing loudly, taking a deep breath as I feel my phone on the other side of the room begin to vibrate. Once, twice, three times. And I don't answer. I don't want to. And as I notice the pause in between vibrations I realize she has happened. He finally did it. And as I bring my pal up to my lips, I mumble before I taste the chalkiness of the pills sliding between the lips. "I'll give you anything. I'll give you anything."

The sound of a car door slamming outside knocks me out of the trance I've put myself in. I gasp, bringing myself to my feet as I throw the blue pills into the trashcan. I throw the water bottle on my bed, wiping my eyes as I move to my dresser. The steps get closer, and as I hear the sound of her keys approaching I know it is my Mother. I try to act natural, grabbing the hair brush I had neglected for days, and as I pull my hair out from where it was tucked in my hoodie I realize how much it needed attention.

"Grace." I hear her threat as she slams the door open, my eyes widening as I turn to her. "I thought you'd be here."

"You're home early," I say, ignoring the sort of rasp in my voice. "I didn't think you'd be home until later."

"I kind of had to," she crosses her arms, walking towards me as she looks down at me with her condescension. "When they told me that you didn't attend a single class today. What's happened to you? You used to love going to school."

"Can you sit down?" I ask, purposely avoiding her intimidating gaze as I hold the hairbrush out for her to take. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay," she says, dragging out the word as she takes the brush in her hand. She moves to the bench beside me as I turn away from her, closing my eyes as I feel the familiar pull of my hair. I used to hate this feeling, since my Mom never knew how to take care of my hair since hers was so short. I got the thickness from my Dad, and I guess she never knew how to take care of it. I cringe at the pull, but it brings me back to when I was a child. And despite everything that is happening, the nostalgia is enough to keep me from going insane.

As she brushes my hair, I twiddle my thumbs as I tell her about Tyler. I tell her everything, feeling the weight of the world release from my shoulders. It's almost as if I've been holding a breath for too long, and as I tell her my problem it's like a breath of fresh air. And unlike Luke, I watch as she lowers the brush from my hair.

She believes me.