Supernatural One Shots

Habits

Yeah, so I wrote this while listening to Habits by Tove Lo so don't hate me too much k? I suggest listening to it and reading this if you wanna cry a lot.

Possible triggers so careful and Ily.

Sure, he's the one who is dead completely, fully, forever, but I'm dead inside. The moment I got the news, my whole world fell apart. He's left me,all of us, here and hell has won. I left the next morning. Went to some random cheap party town that was close. I was... off when I drove here so I don't remember the name. I asked them not to find me, the family left behind, one dead and one has already left.

The motel (which is actually just an old apartment building with rent out rooms) is cheap enough. I plan to stay for a while. The room smells of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol, which is fitting because that is what I do all day. I can't sleep. Not really anyways. I see him, his eyes, his being, screaming, crying, bleeding, dying, in my dreams and it hurts too much. I can however get drunk off my ass enough till I pass out. So that's been me: dead inside, drunk of her ass, high as clouds dazed, and lonely. "Just to numb the pain of living without you" I whisper at the ceiling.

Tonight, I'm going to the club down the street. Hopefully, the bartender is nice enough.

I stumble in real late, maybe 5 am. I had sex with some guy in the bathroom, fast and greasy. I know that I'm being way too easy but I hurt. I run to the bathroom and start to throw up into the shower, nothing new. Then I wash my face and fall asleep on the cold tile floor.

*next day*

I wake up and it's late, slept through the day, not a shock. As I clean up a little, I hear my phone ringing, a friend from the club. I answer and she tells me to come to the club in a few hours, she has someone she wants me to meet apparently, but I accept anyways. I put on the sluttiest clothes I can find. I'm sitting on the floor in what is supposed to be a living room, if living was what I was doing. I smoke a few cigarettes before eating something before going to the club. I've accepted that I gotta spend the rest of my life high just to accept his fate.

*later that night*

I'm sitting in my car, about to drive off from the club when I glance across and see it. His jacket. It's in my backseat. And that's all I need to completely fall apart. No amount of booze or drugs can make this okay. I call his brother and cry and cry about how I'm sorry and it's all my fault and mostly about being sorry. I might be a little drunk and a lot high but it was all true. Through tears, I pull out of the lot. I'm driving through an intersection when I realize I can't go home alone again. And I can't take home some low life that takes advantage of my numbness and makes it easy to get me in bed with him. I can't. The silence is killing me. I am on the highway when I see it, a huge truck on the side if the road, the passengers no where to be seen. Then I remember something I read what feels like ages ago, but it was only a few months. What was the way out of suffering again? Straight and fast? I think that was it. I can't live like this anymore. I know this makes me a coward and this isn't what he'd want me to do, but I can't. I say a silent apology to everyone I'm letting down before I point my car at the truck. And i hit the gas: 40, 50, 60, and I close my eyes. And just before it all goes dark, I think for a minute I can see him reaching down toward me with his hand, and it's worth it. Straight and fast and worth it.