wm/eo daughter one-shots

I don't feel anything anymore (eo)

Anyone else going to Coventry to see Harry Styles on the 23rd May cut I will be there!! Anyways hope you all enjoy this chapter , which is another pretty heavy one unfortunately so please read the warnings. Tried to write a happy one but I got bored. Enjoyyy!!

Tw: mentions of drugs, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, detailed descriptions of needles and depression

Riley is 15

~~~

Drugs.

Drugs. Drugs. Drugs.

It's what everyone is going on about isn't it? This supposed out of body experience that makes you feel out of this world, and releases your mind from the clutches of your body.

They say your heart races, but your body stills for once, as you get the sense of euphoria and like nothing else really matters.

Personally I've never had any experiences with that, although I have fallen down a few staircases.

You know that state of high when all you can say is, 'I'm so high,' I've been there a few times too.

But it's never given me peace or a cool out of body experience with funky shapes and a feeling of serenity. Only shaking, anxiety, nausea, and feeling like I'm constantly falling through the floor, no matter how much I take, or what I take.

Weed. Ket. Cocaine. Heroin. Meth. Pingers. Speed. Edibles. Ecstasy.

I've tried them all, and yet nothing has brought me that feeling of peace that I so desperately crave...

They all just bring hours of disappointment and sickness, which is already what I feel every fucking day.

I've had months when I've become addicted. At night. In my room, all alone. Just me and a credit card stained with white powder, hoping it can bring me something other than pain and endless nothingness.

One line. Nothing. Two lines. I feel dizzy. Three lines. I'm having a panic attack, and I feel worse than I did when I started.

Then why do I keep doing it?

The answer is, I don't really know.

"Fuck!" I curse, wiping the stray powder from my nose as I sit down on the end of my bed, my eyes watering ferociously.

"Fucking do something to me!!" I whisper yell, not bothering to wipe away my tears, as I know that more will just fall down in their place.

My hands shake violently as I use my card to make another line of powder on top of an old work book on my desk that I used to use to write my stories in. God how times have changed.

My life is already a fucking story, apart from there is no happy ending. I need more than a Prince Charming to save me.

The room span, but I still didn't feel at peace. It was spinning too much, and the walls felt like they were closing in on me.

I bite down on my hand. Hard. And let out a muffled sob.

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, pounding ferociously against my chest. Faster. Faster. Faster.

Part of me was scared. Scared that I was gonna die. But does that even matter anymore?

My parents claim they love me, but really I know that they are too busy with their work to truly love me, as they are always away from home, which is maybe how my addiction started.

Maybe if my Mom was just home that one day, then maybe I wouldn't have gone out and bought my first few grams of weed, and then maybe I wouldn't be where I am right now.