Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Briefly, I consider calling Rem over to talk but decide against it. He doesn’t need to see me like this. No one needs to see me like this. I’m a mess, a fucking complete and utter mess. So instead of doing what I preach most and reach out for help, I sit by myself like a loser in my living room and get drunk. The world around me is spinning, maintaining the same speed but everything inside of me has stopped, the air, my heartbeat, it’s all unmoving.
Don’t break. Do. Not. Break. I grip the glass in my hands tighter. Tight enough to shatter it. Tight enough to break me. It’s been years since I wanted to use anger as an outlet to my pain. Years since… the memory pulls me under, the memory rushes in before I can stop it and just like that I’m back there, being the old me.
I slam my bare fists into the walls of my room over and over again. The anger inside me so great, I don’t know any other way to let it out. It’s like a volcano of rage, erupting, spewing from deep inside me.
The rest of my room is already destroyed. I tore it apart when I got home from the hospital. The same hospital where she took her last breath. The doctors said they did all they could… but it wasn’t enough. They did all they could? A cruel smile appears on my lips. If they did all they could, she would be here, right in front of me.
The skin over my knuckles is gone, blood drips from my hands and paints the walls. My hands should hurt, but I don’t feel the pain… not there at least. My body is too overwhelmed with a different kind of pain, a pain a thousand times worse than any physical pain.
She is gone… dead… she left a hole inside me so deep that I know there is nothing to fix it. No one will ever be able to fill that space again.
She left a void that will forever leave me empty and alone.
Drink, after drink, I try to drown the memories I’ve been trying to forget for so many years. Amy, my sweet, Amy. God, how I miss you. I look around this room, and all I can think about every day is how empty it is. How pathetically alone I am because I refuse to move on with my life.
I should be married and starting a family right now, not drowning myself in a bottle of fucking whiskey, all alone.
Loser. You’re a loser, Sebastian Miller.
Raising my glass, I drink like it’s a celebratory event. My thoughts shift and swirl like shit being flushed down a toilet.
“Lily…” I say her name out loud just to see if it burns as badly on the outside as it does on the inside. Nothing. Slamming the glass down on the table, I force my shaking hands away from the whiskey bottle and into my hair. Even as angry, and hurt, and burning with sadness as I am over Lily reappearing in my life, I’m concerned for her. Riddled with worry.
Is she alone? Why is she here? How is she doing? What’s her life been like the last ten years? The questions stack up, higher and higher, threatening to topple over.
Is she suffering like me? Does she hate herself for not being in the car that night, like I hate myself? When she moved away with her grandparents, I never once stopped to check on her, to consider what she might be going through. I’m not really sure why. Maybe I figured she still had someone to hold onto, to make sure she pieced herself back together again. I had no one, at least, not anyone that would really understand.
She didn’t just lose her sister, but her entire family all in one swoop. Where I had lost the love of my life, she lost it all.
Ha. Pathetic. Here I was whining over something as superficial as lost love when the person who should really be hurting was smiling as if the world hadn’t done her wrong. Hadn’t taken everything from her.
Selfish asshole. I was going through my own shit, yes, but she was just a kid. This is dumb, ridiculous. Why the fuck do I even care? The past is the past. It’s not like I can go back and change what I did, or what happened.
Nothing can, because if I could, I would find a way for Amy to be here with me.
Fuck, I need to get out of my head. Stop thinking about her. About all of it. It was easier when I pretended that part of my life never happened. I thought I was over this, over Amy but one look at Lily and the flood gates opened.