Invisible String

Chapter 39 - The Archer

When I woke in the morning, I laid still for a while. It was early, I could tell by the light seeping through the bottom of my door. It was that dark yellow, from the really early time in the morning. I got up, stretched, and tried not to think about the drugs and Jaiden for as long as I could. I went out into the kitchen, made coffee, and drank half the pot before finding my phone.

I unlocked it reluctantly, not wanting to read anything from Jaiden yet, but I couldn't avoid it. He'd texted me once.

Jaiden: It's done. It's all gone. Everything. Even the stuff you never saw.

The stuff I never saw? God. How much stuff did he have? What kind of drugs was he into? Should I have asked? I sat down on my couch, legs crossed like a pretzel. My fingers fidgeted with my phone in between them. I didn't know what to do. I'd never known anyone who did drugs. Well, aside from marijuana.

My first thought was to leave him, get away from him. Obviously, he was trouble, just like everyone had predicted. But I couldn't do that. No matter how many times that thought crossed my mind, it felt wrong. And he was right. I really did love him, too. Too much to just give up on him. Was it possible for him to change? Drug addicts didn't have to be that way forever, did they? Was he really an addict? If he could get rid of the stuff that quickly, that says something, doesn't it?

I sighed, arguing with myself was more tiresome than anything. I let the day pass by, and I didn't text him back. I didn't call him. He didn't call me. It was quiet. And I was the saddest I'd been in months.

I laid on the couch for the whole day, not crying, just laid there. Thinking about everything. I couldn't sleep either. My mind was racing too much. But it was getting late. I hadn't done anything all day. And I didn't want to. So I went into my bathroom, took two Advil PM's and drank a glass of straight whiskey, then passed out.

I woke the next morning, groggy. My phone was in bed with me. I checked it—still nothing from him. So I went back into the bathroom and took another two pills, drank another glass of whiskey, and went back to sleep. When I woke up this time, it was still Thursday, but late in the night. I got up from my bed and went into the kitchen and ate half a box of cereal. When was the last time I'd eaten?

I drank three bottles of water to rehydrate because I'd practically been pissing dust. Then I drank three shots of whiskey to help me sleep again. But as I was heading back into my bedroom, there was a knock at the door. I stood in the entryway, staring at it. The knocking occurred again, and I sighed, really not wanting it to be Jaiden. I looked out the peephole. It was my lucky night.

"James?" I said as I opened the door.

His eyes widened, and his eyebrows raised. He smiled, in a cringing sort of way. "Hannah?" He waved his hand in front of his nose.

"Do I stink?" I asked, raising my arms and sniffing.

"Of alcohol," he clarified.

"Oh," I said, my hand covering my mouth. "Sorry."

"Are you alright?" He asked, walking into my apartment, pushing me aside.

I sighed heavily, away from his direction. Then shook my head. "No, I don't feel alright."

"What happened?" He asked, reaching out for my shoulder. He laid it there, waiting for me to reply. When I didn't, he wrapped his arms around me in a hug. "Are you going to be okay?"

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head into the curve of his neck. "I don't know," I mumbled, tears streaming down my face. He pulled back and held it in his hands.

"What happened, Hannah?"

I closed my eyes, trying to decide whether or not I should tell him. What could he say that I hadn't thought of myself already?