The coffee that Tate had made me was going cold. I stare out the window. Jack had already left. Said something about needing to tell someone, his boss apparently, about the incident. Didn't make much sense to me, but that's okay. Nothing's making too much sense anymore. I can't seem to think. To act. To speak. I know what drowning feels like, now. You're gasping and clawing at the water, your lungs are filling. With water, you're light headed. You're slowly dying. Sinking into the pitch black abyss.
Maybe I'm overthinking. I have a habit of doing that. But don't we all, when we have nothing else to think about. I guess I should be thinking on the bright side, like, "Hey, we didn't die, Lila. We should all be happy, and celebrating!" Yeah, no. I didn't feel that at all.
I was so confused. I needed the time to process everything. Questioning everything. Jeff. Jack. My dead Father, and mother.
Danny is passed out upstairs.
Tate is with him.
Martha at work.
I'm alone.
I felt cold. Distant. Alone. I needed someone here with me.
I felt up my arm, goosebumps trailing up along my arm to my shoulder. I breathed out, and for a second I swear I could see my breath. I shut my eyes slowly, my lips cold.
I needed him.
"Where are you..."
---
I had only fell asleep for a while. Maybe two hours.
I woke up at the windowsill, I must've fell asleep. The coffee now utterly cold, untouched. Unwanted.
That's how I felt. Cold, Untouched, unwanted.
I was so over everything. I was over it. This sadness and confusion was tugging at my brain. The feeling made
Sick. I didn't want to feel this way anymore. I don't want to live in worry, or have to be scared of dying every five minutes. I wanted to be happy again. I wanted to be me.
So I decided.
I will be happy. My way.
I pulled out the kitchen drawer slowly, making no noise, taking a bottle of Martha's nighttime sleeping pills. I sped to the bathroom, shut the door, and locked it.
Tears began to slowly stream down my cheeks, dark makeup clouding under my eyes.
Everything seemed like a dream. Everything was blurred out almost. I couldn't think, I couldn't feel. I just did as my brain told me to do.
I aggressively unscrewed the cap to the bottle, dumping more than a handful of pills into my hand, I took them all into my mouth, swallowing, as more tears dripped down quicker.
I fell to the floor, leaning against a wall, breathing heavily.
I couldn't think. I couldn't feel. I couldn't see. I couldn't speak. I couldn't hear. That was a great feeling.
I rested my head on my shoulder, my head tilted back, as my eyes slowly got heavier and heavier. And soon:
Everything went black.
((You already hate me for this cliffhanger))