Heartbreak Hotel (Editing)

Chapter 75: Powerless

De's POV

I never wanted it to be this bad. I never wanted anything to go the way it all have been going for the past few years-crazy and lost in the midst of a dark cloud they call 'Fame', and how I came to be this way is all big blur to me. All I know is that I had to do it. It had nothing to do with me and Wayne, or how much I hated Liyah, or how much I couldn't stand being in the same presence as my own twin brother. All of that was irrelevant to me when it came to this. That awful, awful feeling that throbbed my bones with excruciating pain made me feel as though I was dying in every single way possible. The chills, the terrible vomiting.

I was in desperate need to shoot up. To feel as though I was on top of the world. I was longing for the warm in fuzzy feeling to electrify through my veins. I wanted my mind to be slow, floating away from reality itself. Away from all that surrounded me. Congesting me. I wanted to forget whether or not I was sleep or awake. Dead or alive. I just wanted to be floating-sinking to the floor.

Right now, I was laying in my bed curled up shaking, sucking in the stale air as beads of sweat was forming at my forehead. I didn't know how to think, or how to even feel correctly. I was too sick to even feel sleepy, even though I hadn't slept in three and a half days. I didn't know what day it was, what time it was. All I knew was that I wanted to get high and I needed it or else I would probably kill myself. I would do anything to get myself out of this misery.

I tightened the white sheets around my body, rubbing on my skin. It felt as though someone was slowly peeling my skin off. Wanting for me to feel the ever agonizing burning sensation. I was slowly rocking back and forth, shaking, shivering. I felt nauseated, I had an head ache, I was crying, all at the same time.

This must be what death feels like. This must be how any person who was beaten up, and left on the streets to die felt like. All my life I have learned that everyone long and wishes to go to heaven. The want that enternal life with no suffering, no pain and to be with God and those they have lost in their life time-but no one wanted to die. They forget that they had to go through death to get to that promise land. I can't fear death any longer, I've died a thousand times.

God, I wish I should've listened to my mother when she told me that I should always be careful for what I wished for. I wanted fame so bad because it look good. I thought that it would change me, my life. No more life struggles, no more pain. I was tired of living in one place, and was wishing for more. The truth is, no one knows how hard change can be until you actually go through it. And once you get there, once you breath that change you've been waiting for, all of it comes crashing down, and even hell can't comfy once you're completely settled in.

The funny thing is, I already had all that I wished for. There was a glimsp of heaven in the friends that I have, the music I made. I didn't have much back in Harlem, but it was enough. I wish for those times again, I even wish for the times when I didn't hate Liyah for stealing all that I wanted, all that I ever wished for. I missed the days of us walking through the flooded streets walking, talking about anything and everything that we would all forget as time ticked on and passed by. That is what I longed for.

Now, with each passing day is a death wish, and I'm just walking through hunting for an exit. If it wasn't for my needs I would've just left a long time ago. As soon as I noticed that all five us drowning in our secrets and silent pains, I would've left. I wanted no part of this anymore, it was because of this that I was lying in bed wanting to die right here, and right now. Every one of us: Me, Nikki, Leena, and Liyah all held a secret. Whether it was for on another, or the people surrounding us. We sat there in circles with masks and remain unspoken. Our secrets building on the inside eating us all away, and behind closed doors we walked alone through labyrinths. Idle in the halls with nameless faces haunting us. We are as dark as the souls that walk through our nightmares.