𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗚𝗼 𝗢𝗳 𝗠𝘆 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗱 🤍

•𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗣𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱•

•☁️•

Nikki's POV, June 1987

The last couple of weeks have honestly been hell, we go on tour next week and if you want the honest truth, I'm completely and utterly screwed.

When I got back that morning after I left River alone, I swore to myself while sitting against the bathtub that it was going to be the last time I shot up, my daughter could have been killed because of this fucking drug.

I swore it was the final time.

But, guilt had other ideas. I was now so deeply depressed because of everything that I've done that I actually couldn't stop, no matter how much I wanted too. I couldn't.

My arms were so battered from the sheer amount of hits I was taking in a day, they were sore and painful and no doubt some of the track marks were infected. Everyday I look more and more dead, I was so unrecognizable now I scared myself if I looked in a mirror. I thought I looked bad before but trust me that was nothing to what I look like now.

This tour could actually kill me, not that I'd fucking complain, but I really wouldn't be surprised if it did, I wasn't going to cancel it because that would be admitting have a problem which somehow a large part of my brain wasn't doing.

This statement is demonstrated best by what I'm currently doing, let's give some context- I was about to shoot up in the bathroom when River began to cry, half of me wanted to tend to my daughter and the other half truthfully didn't really care and fuck, the amount of shame I felt at that fact crippled my heart.

But, the little sober voice told me to stop being a selfish fuck and look after my kid, so for once I listened to the sober part of my brain. I picked up the syringe of heroin and kept the belt on my upper arm walking out into the hallway and straight into River's room, Tommy was downstairs cleaning I think so I was safe to do this here.

Firstly, I put the syringe down on the floor and picked up River and held her rocking her slightly to calm her down and luckily for me she did pretty quickly. River was a good baby, really she was and definitely is Tom and I's kid let me tell you that- but she's well behaved- unlike the both of us... well, she mostly is anyway.

When I was sure she was out and back into a deep sleep I placed her into her crib- the second she was out of my arms I fell to the floor and shuffled myself against the wall, scrambling for the needle as fast as I could, when I found it I picked it up and shakily slid it into my red, battered flesh. Damn, my arms were so fucked, I know I mentioned it before but you don't even know how bad they now were.

How can I not want to see what this drug has done to me?

Once the needle had done it's work I pulled it out and dropped it carelessly down next to me and ripped off the belt dropping it down half next to me, half behind.

I honestly thought I was safe.

I thought I was safe to do this here but I should have known better, so much better.

The sound of feet hitting the stairs began to reach my ears but in my current state they registered with me too late so before I could even attempt to move the footsteps entered the room followed by a loud gasp and a very worried voice saying "Nikki? Oh my god, are you-" Tommy stopped dead directly infront of me watching me as my hooded eyes meet his, the concern changed in a flash to aggression"W-What the fuck?! I-... I-.. what the fuck are you on?"