Boys Don't Cry

Chapter 38

"I'll leave you to get that rest your dad was on about." He jokes, I let out a small smirk and walk him to the door. "I can stay if you want me to." He offers. I let him know that he can go, and that he's done enough. When he leaves I find my belt, and lay everything I need on my bed, prepared and ready to go. My hands automatically build the syringe, filling it with my old favourite. Before I get the chance to take it, my thoughts stop me.

"We're both extremely proud of you and how far you've come."

"You can't just runaway and take heroin or cocaine every time something doesn't go right."

The door swings open and my father walks in, he goes to speak, but then notices the drugs lying on my bed. I expect him to snatch it away, or shout at me. He takes a seat on the bed next to me.

"Are you going to take that?" He asks calmly. I think for a moment, then shrug. I don't look at him, I keep my eyes on the drugs. There's a silence in the room, no one speaks. "I want you to know, if you do choose to take that - I'm not going to stop you. This is your choice, your decision to make." He tells me, I feel his eyes on me, although I keep mine on the syringe. Two more minutes pass with silence.

"I remember the first time someone ever introduced it to me." I say, meaning the heroin. I remember it well. "He said "it's the best drug you'll ever try. Takes away all the pain and memories."" I recall. "He was right, it does." I tell my Dad. He nods seriously. With a look of concentration on his face. He looks from me to the drugs, and then back to me.

"Don't let yourself go back to that."

"It's the best drug you'll ever try."

"Takes away all the pain and memories."

"I'm pregnant."

"You'll be a great father."

"We're both extremely proud."

"Don't let us down."

My mind races, for the next few minutes, dwelling on every single good or bad thing someone has ever said to me, including John. My head falls in to my hands, exhausted. My hands let go and reach for the belt, I roll up my sleeve, to reveal my bruised and scarred arm, the belt wraps around my arm, and I tighten it, allowing veins to become more prominent. My hand moves towards the syringe and takes a hold of it. Steadying my arm and moving the drugs closer, one more thought makes itself heard in my head.

"We love you so much, Sweetheart."

I drop the syringe instantly and loosen the belt, throwing it to the end of my bed. My dad takes the syringe away from me immediately.

"You're brilliant. I'm so proud of you." He whispers, before disappearing in to my bathroom with my drugs. The noise of the toilet flushing rings in my ears and I fall back on my bed, exasperated.

"I'm sorry." I mutter, rubbing my eyes.

"For what? You didn't take it." My dad replies. I look at him, stunned.

"I was going to."

"You didn't." He repeats."And for the record, I was never going to let you take it." He admits.

The pain medication Amelia gave me is starting to take over and I lie on my bed, groggy. My father places the blanket back over me and I drift off to sleep.

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The past week has been a blur, I haven't gotten out of bed. I still haven't spoken to anyone. Hayley appeared, she lay right beside me for days, only moving when my parents offered her food and a shower. We haven't spoken properly, I am too numb. The only other interaction has been texting Jacob and taking painkillers and water from Amelia which she has pushed. Still no verbal communication, even when Katherine has come to visit. She's been three times now, trying to get me to wash, talk or eat and drink. All I want is drugs. But I know my father is on to me.