𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗚𝗼 𝗢𝗳 𝗠𝘆 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗱 🤍

•𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆•

A/N: Sorry 😭

•☁️•

Nikki's POV, April 1987

It had been a further few days since the incident with River and the guilt over the incident has festered and grown within my mind, so much so that I'd once again upped my heroin doses, once again I'd distanced myself from Tommy. It was the best way to deal with it, Tommy would hate me if he found out what I'd done, the way I'd shouted at River was completely unacceptable.

Tommy wasn't in the house, he's gone over to Heather's yet again. He had a pretty decent streak of not seeing her, yet she'd rang here and asked if she could meet up with him today, he didn't tell me why she wanted to see him, just that he was going to see her.

My paranoia had been building and getting to me badly, so much so that I was pacing around the bedroom like a caged animal trying to rationalize why Tommy was with Heather today rather than being here with me, I'm trying to remind myself that he loves me but everytime I do this little voice in the back of my head contradicts everything rational with counter comments.

Always telling me that Tommy doesn't love me, that he's probably with Heather right now bending her over some table and fucking her.

It was bullshit, I knew that, but what if?

Also, one of the many side effects of this amount of heroin mixed what the fuck ever else I have lying around- usually cocaine, was the hallucinations, some were voices some were full blown apparitions of my deepest fears, mostly my mom and her abusive boyfriends- recently though Tommy was getting more and more common, I'd hallucinate him telling me that I was nothing to him, just a fuck up junkie who didn't deserve him.

This was true but it hurt to hear from Tommy... hallucination or not.

I'd tripped out a couple of times with Tommy in the house recently but I'd somehow managed to keep the panic and insanity to a minimum but acted weird enough that he questioned me on it many times.

By now I knew he knew I was on something, but he's never asked me what maybe because he doesn't want to think about the different substances I could be putting into my body.

But me being me, I was obviously going to pick ones which were the worst and most destructive you can. That's just me.

As a matter of fact, I was hallucinating right now, although I'd lost track of what was real and drug induced at this point, the voices were coming from all around me I'd seen shadows standing in the corner of the room whispering my name.

"Nikki..."

"Nikki..."

"Nikki..."

Sometimes one voice sounded like Tommy, sometimes one sounded like Mick or Vince, some would be a little girls voice- one which I assume is meant to be River- calling out "Daddy..." but the main one was my mom, her voice was always the clearest and loudest and the one that still manages to place fear in my heart after all these years.

My pacing continued for a while until the voice of my mom sounds throughout the room "Frankie..."

"Go away, go away, go away, please go away" I mutter under my breath, trying my hardest to block her out.