I couldn’t breathe.
Here I was again, all alone and in my house, behind locked doors. I thought that I was getting better. I thought I was genuinely getting
better. But I’m not.
I’m not anymore. For a month I was happy. For a week I was getting better. For a day I had hope. But in that damn minute I lost it. I’ve reached my limit.
I feel like I’ve lost it again. I shouldn’t be like this just because of some guy.
But I can’t lie to myself and tell myself that I didn’t want to become better because of him. I had to get better for myself but what happens when you feel that yourself isn’t enough?
I didn’t know which was worse.
Days where I feel nothing or the days that I feel everything.
I was drowning beneath large waves and dying from thirst at the same time. I was fucking suffocating.
So here I am again.
On the bathroom floor. With locked doors, I had pills around me, one for me, one for my mind, one for my sanity, one for my heart, one for my head, many for the voices in my damn head.
And I couldn’t fucking breathe.
I said sorry for myself too many times, I apologize for saying sorry too much, for everything that went wrong even when it had nothing to do with me. I labeled my fucking forehead a disaster.
It was my fault really; I knew the trouble I was getting into the moment that I agreed to Grayson’s stupid terms. He was confused and I shouldn’t have fallen into his damn agreement.
I didn’t deserve to be a second choice. I didn’t deserve to be someone’s
maybe or what if or I’m not sure. I don’t fucking deserve it.
Mixed signals are for cowards. I deserved someone who knew exactly what they wanted.
I glanced back at the bottle of pills, still untouched. I hesitated; it took every ounce of strength not to swallow them all at once. But I did.
Every last one. Then I lay down on the cold floor. My heart pounded in my chest, and for the first time, I could breathe. My head began to relax, and the voices started to fade. I finally closed my eyes, feeling the burn in my stomach, tears streaming down my face. But the drugs weren’t enough.
My heart raced, and my hands began to tremble. The voices in my head came back, louder and more relentless than ever, screaming at me. A voice filled with hate echoed in my mind. My throat started to close up again. I used to think drugs were all I could do to my body, hoping each night that I’d fall asleep before I completely fell apart.
I got up, tears splashing onto the floor as I opened every drawer, searching. My first thought was to grab the scissors, but I needed something sharper, something that could cut deeper than before.
My eyes landed on the knife. My heart raced as I picked it up, its shiny surface reflecting my red, swollen eyes.
I felt torn apart, my hands trembling as I reached for my phone, my finger hovering over Margo’s contact. But I realized she didn’t need this tonight.
So, I put my phone down and slid to the floor, the knife hovering near my stomach. I closed my eyes as the pain seared through me, cutting into my flesh. I swallowed my screams, my sobs, the pain dragging on through the night. My body became a canvas, blood dripping onto the floor.
The emptiness inside me was replaced by sorrow. Suddenly, the world lost its color, turning black and white. I felt utterly drained, as if the world had taken everything I had to give.
Most nights I’ve done this, it never went this far. I never thought the emptiness could weigh this heavily. I was falling apart, and I let the pieces scatter, refusing to let anyone pick them up because I didn’t believe I deserved to be whole again.
I would hold myself together, not fixed but merely gathered.
The next day.
I woke up in my bed, getting ready for school. My head pounded. I made it my mission to say as little as possible, especially around Margo. She’d know instantly that something was wrong.
The day dragged on, and as it ended, I realized I had left my glasses at the house Grayson and I had stayed at. After school, I drove over, promising myself it would only take a few minutes, but it didn’t.
As I prepared to leave the house, the doorbell rang urgently. I rushed to answer it and found a woman with blonde hair and brown eyes standing before me.
“Hello, do I know you?” I asked politely, though the woman looked at me as if I had three heads.
“No, I’m afraid not,” she replied gently, extending her hand for me to shake. “My name is Vivian.” I tilted my head, shaking her hand.
“My name is—”
“—Adrianna,” she interrupted.
I nodded, “Yes, how do you know that?” I asked as she grinned from ear to ear.
“I’m Grayson’s mother.” My expression faltered. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I hid my shock well.
I didn’t really know what to say, only looking at her, she looked like
Grayson. I shook my head, “I don’t know where he is, I’m so sorry.” She stayed smiling, “Yes, well it seems he’s been ignoring me.” My lips thinned, “He has a habit of doing that, doesn’t he?”
She scowled, “Has my son done something wrong?” She looked concerned.
“No, he has not, he’s just, gone right now and I’m not sure why.” I turned away from her.
She smiles, walking closer, she hugs me, “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
I wasn’t sure why she hugged me, I wasn’t the type for physical touch, especially from people that I barely knew. She was odd. I was not about to brush over the fact that she was indeed weird.
I flinch as she pulls away, “Are you okay, love?” She sounded endearing.
I smile softly, “Yes.”
She pushes my hair back behind my ear. My face blushed, “Is something wrong?”
I laugh, “I’ve just never been hugged randomly before.” She looks at me with a warm smile. She looked like a damn angel.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” She asks plainly as I nod, it wasn’t like I was doing anything. It wouldn’t hurt, would it?
“You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you?” She asks and before I could counter, she interrupts, “I would love to learn more about my son if that’s okay.”
I felt bad, Grayson barely talked about his mother. He has barely acknowledged that he really had another family than the one he’s with and I couldn’t help but feel bad that all she wanted to know how Grayson was.
So, I agreed of course.
I let her enter the house, cooking up something fast like pasta that we could eat together without problems, we sat across from each other.
“Is he doing well?” She asks intrigued. I smile, “He doing great.”
She inches closer, “How did he not mention to me that his girlfriend is so beautiful?” I blushed as I turned away. “Does he have any hobbies other than hockey?”
I laugh, “He lives and breathes hockey, but your son is very great on the ice. He’s a super star and he wants to make it big.”
Grayson’s mother laughs, my smile fading, “Is something wrong?”
She looked at me with a serious expression, “Well, his father forbade it for the longest time.” She looked around, “You know I met his father at a hockey game.”
My eyes widen, “Really?”
Her eyes sparkled, “He was a superstar alright, I was actually there for the rival team. I was dating the other team’s captain at the time, and he was dating Sara Beckham.” She coughs, “Well, still dating.” She corrects as I frown.
“His father was so in love with the game until he had to pick between the game and his future. I was pregnant with Grayson when he picked the business. I always knew that Grayson would love the sport.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did Mr. Prince pick the business?”
She frowns, “I don’t think that I could answer that question my dear.” Her lips thinned as I nodded.
“Grayson is a tough spirit. He loves getting everything the way he wants, but that’s not always the case. He messes up but trust he will always fix it.” She continues, “While Grayson might not want to get to know me, I know he has a good heart.”
She mirthlessly grins, “I would love to keep getting to know you since you and Grayson are becoming so close.”
I look at Grayson’s mother with despair, “Grayson and I are going through a rough patch.” I look away, putting my fork down, “He’s dating his ex-girlfriend.”
She frowns, “So, if you should be telling anyone that you want to meet their acquaintance or have dinner with them, it’s her.” I swallow as she looks down. Grayson’s mother looked at me with a gloomy face.
“You have any plans tomorrow night?” She asked as I nod, “I think my friends want me to attend this charity ball,”
She smiles, “What time do you think it will end?” I think, “Maybe ten.”
“I’d like to keep seeing you, if that’s okay?” I looked up, confused with her offer. I nod, not really sure why I agreed.
