Sprousehart and Bughead [DISCONTINUED]

High af

What is it about him? Every time I looked at him, butterflies fluttered in my gut, immediately replaced by the suffocating weight of regret. My fault. My fault.

His dead eyes and antisocial behaviour. His retreat back into himself had me scared. And it was my fault. But it was for the greater good.

Right?

Wrong.

My hands shook as for yet the third time that day, his dead eyes stared directly into mine. This time, I couldn’t take it. I stood up suddenly, making a stupid excuse I don’t even remember before hurrying off to the bathroom. Once securely locked in the stall that had become my sanctuary, I pulled out the small baggie of pills I had gotten from Reggie.

I dry swallowed two triangular green pills with a swig of water, then collapsed against the wall, waiting for my mind to stop spinning.

I had hurt Juggie. I had left him. I had hurt him. Hurt him to help him. To protect him from me.

I must be missing something. Some essential part of me. I was twisted and I didn’t need Jughead getting caught in my downward spiral. I needed to help myself. I didn't need a xanny to feel better.

I leaned over the toilet, plunging two fingers down my throat until all my stomach contents resided safely within the toilet. I flushed it and wiped my sweating brow with the back of my sleeved arm.

That did it. I’m nothing but unstable. Unstable and unsafe. A sob wracked my body as I pulled my knees to my chest. I just kept doing nothing. Chasing myself in circles away from Jughead and back again.

I needed him, but he was better off without me. I kept making the same mistakes, letting myself get too close, then jerking back violently, hurting us both. Awfully bad at learning my lesson. I couldn’t keep doing this. I needed it to end. Everything to stop.

I got up and stormed from the school. I ran as fast as I could with no destination in mind.

I found myself on the banks of Sweetwater River. Who wasn’t dying here? Not me. I took the rest of the pills Reggie had given me. One, two, twelve, till I lost count and my head spun. At that point, I slipped off my shoes and swam into the depths of the river. I slipped down through the water.

My last thought was of Jughead. I’m sorry Juggie.

Based off Xanny by Billie Eilish