*This story is a spin-off, It can be read as a stand alone but reading Love To Hate You first will add more details and complete the small missing pieces*
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"Just a little more and I'm gone for a while"
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𝐑𝐲𝐚𝐧 - Four years ago I was falsely accu...
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𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄
I had to go to therapy for a year after what happened at the party. I had nightmares about the same eyes standing over me almost everyday, it was only under the influence of drugs that I could escape them. After I put Ryan into jail I was a walking corpse. I didn't eat - no actually I developed some kind of eating disorder - I hated myself. Everything that made a human being happy - I avoided. I wasn't worthy of living. Once I actually let myself sleep, knowing that I would get the same nightmare, the same eyes, beating me into a mess. I still don't let myself feel anything that I know will bring me some sort of happiness.
Why would I?
My therapists never understood me and I made up shit to escape everything because I couldn't tell them the truth. Lying in court was the biggest mistake of my life and I'm cursed to live with it. That day in the hospital, I can never get over it, the same dark blue eyes pleading at me to speak the truth. I'm an awful person but how could I let them kill Miles. He still thinks it was some gang kidnapping him because of money and leaving him, because they didn't just leave him, they threw him on our porch like a dog, all beaten up just like me.
My dad thought he was losing it when both of his children were beaten up in hospital beds.
"Co on tu robi?" What's he doing here? I heard Miles speak with a cold tone once he entered the kitchen the next day and spotted Jackson.
"Nie bądź niegrzeczny. On jest tu, żeby dotrzymać mi towarzystwa." Don't be rude. He's here to keep me company. I tell him and he nods, not questioning me further.
Jackson turned his look at me when Miles exited the kitchen, "Now, that was a mouthful. I didn't know you could speak Polish so well" he tells me and I shrug, "Dad basically forced us to attend Polish classes because our mother was not here to do that"
He nods, "You hungry? Want me to cook you something?"
"Nah, I'm good" I tell him and he doesn't look convinced.
All we did yesterday was go on a few walks and stay in. Well Jackson thought it was a good idea to stay in and that meant in other words that he could look after me even more.
Like I was a charity case.
What Jack doesn't understand is, being an addict is so easy in the beginning because you think that everything is so good and everything will go smoothly until you land flat on your face once the itch in your throat starts to burn at night and you want to claw at your veins for begging you to destroy every cell in your body...Just for what? To feel. Or in my case to not feel. To set myself free. Free of everything. Free of myself. Free of my nightmares, nightmares that haunt me in bare daylight if I'm sober.
It's so pathetic that I'm even saying this but it's easy for people to talk over your pain but once it's them in your position, shit ain't easy for them either. Addiction feeds off of everything that makes you, you.
