Stained {Nemi}

Chapter Seventeen

Demi

Tears rolled like uncontrollable screams from Miley's pretty face as I finished my story. Leaving out a few bits and pieces from her, sparing her more tears. I hadn't wanted to tell her these things, I just got tired of them wanting to know so much. Maybe they will leave me alone now that they know it was never perfect over in L.A. Maybe now that she's knows too much will she judge me? Having to over come dangerous drug addictions will never be something I'm proud of doing , but I'm learning to embrace my past so I can live happily in the present to shape myself a brighter future.

The day had slowly faded and we were still seated on the floor of my porch. My hands lay over my closed laptop as I looked out into the dark yard. I wonder will she pass the message to Nick that he fucked a girl that use to shoot up her arms with heroine and snort coke. God, I'm so stupid! I still can't believe I gave in to him so easily. What am I going to tell Zac if he ask about Nick and Miley?

I looked to Miley, wanting another reaction out of her than salty tears streaking down her face and snot threatening to trickle down. Reassuringly, I softly caressed her back and she fell into me. Arms around my neck and face buried in the crook of my neck, staining my shirt. "Miley, you're getting my shirt dry-cleaned." I tell her, hoping to make her stop crying.

Miley only sniffed in reply and held on tighter. The smell of her Herbal Essence shampoo tickled my nose as I inhaled deeply and blew out a big huff, sending strands of her hair blowing.

"Why are you crying, Miles?" I asked solemnly.

I felt her body shake and she sniffed a couple more times before she loosen her grip around my neck, pulling away from my shirt to look at my tiresome face.

"You should've stayed we would have helped you Demi; we cared!" She burst.

Patting her hair, I nod my head to agree with her. I never doubted that she nor Nick didn't care for me, it was the total opposite. I cared too much for them to drag them down with my troubles. It was best if I had left like I did than stay, even with the use of drugs, to protect them from myself I did what I knew was best; I left.

I hugged her tightly and began to stand up. "Let's go make some honey Tea because I have a family bag of Cheddar SunChips that needs eating." I suggest.

A few hours later Miley and I had gone through an entire bag of chips and one pitcher of tea. Now Miley was in the bathroom pouring out a gallon of tea through her urinary system. It felt a little like old times during the winters except my little sister wasn't wedged between us half way sleep. Nor was my parents cuddled up on the couch opposite of us, whispering and sipping from hot freshly brewed coffee from their Mr. & Mrs. mugs.

Taking in a large breathe of pain, I squeezed my eyes shut of the bittersweet memories and focused on the paused t.v. I could feel my hand begin shaking because of the need that I've rarely wanted.

The familiar taste of the white powdery substance stung my tongue. Sweat beginning to form under my armpits and at my hairline. The clock from the kitchen ticking loudly. The bathroom faucet running and the sound of the porch shingles being blown by the outside wind. It felt like all the liquids inside my mouth was being sucked dry and placed in the middle of my throat, like a lump of tears that got stuck. Dry and in thirst.

Miley coming out of the bathroom helped me relax enough to take a long sip from my iced tea. Pushing my troubled thoughts to the back of my mind. She took her original seat next to me and pressed play again.

“You sure you finish emptying your insides?” I tread.

I don't want to ever go back to that dark place again. Most of those days I don't even remember because I got so high.