"Your deader than ever."

32

"I used to be happy," my voice comes out hoarse, like I haven't spoken in years. "I mean... really happy, like—" I pause, searching for the right words. "Like bad things couldn't touch me. As if the world was just... full of light."

Charlie sits on the couch, gripping a half-empty bottle of vodka, smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers. Meanwhile, I lie flat on the floor, eyes fixed on the side of an empty bottle. The room is thick with the smell of smoke and the heavy residue of a long, painful few hours.

"What changed?" His voice breaks through the silence. I shift my head, glancing at the stranger across from me.

My lips tremble, "Men."

My eyes grew cloudy, he nods slowly as if he understood. He probably didn't, but it didn't matter. I wasn't talking for him.

I close my eyes letting the remains of the narcotics do a trick in my body, a soft smile tug at my lips, I feel my eyes get distant.

"I'm not sure if it was the time I spent with my ex, or the vacation in Brazil when I was very young.... I would laugh so hard I couldn't breathe... everything was so easy back then." I murmur as my smile falters just a little. "I used to love running barefoot in the summer."

"Somewhere along the way things became broken, but I had to grow up... didn't I?" A bitter laugh left my lips, then a tear slips from the outer corner of my eye hitting the floor.

"I get you." I pause slowly sitting up, he blinks nervously at my reaction, "I-I mean I grew up in all boys and foster homes. I remember thinking life was one big playground. Then one day it's just not. My mum left— I went into the system—and I never quite figured out how to play after that."

"Guess we ended up chasing something we couldn't find." Charlie nods slowly, the silence stretching between us thick with unspoken understanding.

We talked, laughed and let the conversation flow like a river, unfiltered and raw. Stories of heartbreak, of dreams gone wrong, spilling out like a confession between us. No judgements, but a shared desire to forget the weight of our lives, if only for a little while.

The room spun in a beautiful blur, the high stretching until it felt like the day lasted forever.

•••

Hours passed, I open my eyes from the nap I fell into, the sun was here setting lazily outside, music playing softly in the background. I got a flash of happiness, I'm still in the same position then before, no Reign, no restraints, no violence, no blood, just freedom.

I wince trying to get on my feet, my back aches from laying on the floor. I look around for Charlie, but then I see another prepared line on the table.

I smile, a little hesitant, but the weight of how I ended up in this position felt heavier than any uncertainty. I move to snort the line of cociane, the rush of warmth spreads through my chest as the world shifted.

I exhale slowly, feeling the fog of my harmful memories dissipate. Suddenly I feel like dancing, I move in a fluid rhythm, my body swaying and spinning in a trance, the world fading away as I dance alone, intoxicated by the freedom of the moment— the beat seemed to echo in my bones, a melody feels so good.

I grab the bottle tilting it to my lips, the harsh burn of vodka slipping down my throat as I drank directly from the neck, finishing the rest.

I lazily flop on the couch with my feet still on the ground and my body stretched across it. I faintly hear the toilet flush.

Charlie appears into my view, "oh your awake! I'm going to go take a quick nap, feel free to look in the kitchen or do whatever." I respond with a lazy thumbs up unable to find words.

He was gone, the door slightly ajar behind him. I struggled to prop myself up, running a hand through my tangled hair. My eyes scanned the apartment, lingering until they landed on the front door.

For a moment, I considered making a break for it, but I knew I couldn't leave while still high on coke. There was no doubt in my mind—Reign knew exactly where I was. He was pulling the strings, leading me along only to break me in the end.

I shut my eyes exhaling, I go for the bathroom. I stare at my reflection in the dirty mirror, my eyes bloodshot, mascara smudged.

Somehow the girl in front of me didn't seem real—too blurry, too unfamiliar. My hands shaken up as I wipe my cheeks, still damp from tears I didn't remember shedding.

My face was pale, the high still lingering in my veins, but the sadness... that was a constant, a weight I couldn't shake. I look away, but it didn't help. The glass only show more of the broken pieces I kept trying to bury. Who am I now? I whisper to no one, my reflection offering no answer, just silence and the faint voices of a life unraveling.

I pull at my hair, ".... why me?!" I grit out. "Just leave me the fuck alone!" squeezing my eyes shut.

Only my heavy panting pulls me out my episode, I look back in the mirror afraid of myself.

•••

I awoke again with a jolt, fabric soft against my skin, I notice a blanket over me keeping me warm.. Charlie. The taste of alcohol lingers on my tongue, mixing with something bitter, my body heavy and disoriented. I could almost feel every bad decision in my bloodstream, numbing everything but the pull of my body begging for more sleep.

The edges of reality were soft, like I wasn't fully back yet, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to be. Fuck this life, I didn't want it any more, I will proceed how I see fit, and this is where I am until the devil drags me back.

"Hey!" Charlie calls for me. My eyes flutter trying to adjust to the light. "I made pancakes!" He proudly held up a plate full of pancakes gone unfortunately wrong.

I sit up yawning, "What time is it?"

"Almost three in the afternoon," he walks back into the kitchen. "You should eat something."

I follow him into the open kitchen, I look at the odd pancakes in question, hesitant to give it a try. I glance at Charlie.

"I know they look so fucked up."

Not exactly what I meant, I'm thinking he could have done something to them. How could he possibly posion me if we shared ultimate euphoria all night? However, I never liked the thought of eating from strangers, but then again I did just messed up my body function for a some long hours.

I reach for pancakes with some syrup, I hoarsely let out a thanks, then greedily ate away. They were surprisingly tasty.

"So what do you do during the day besides this?" I ask.

He finishes chewing, "Nothing really, I just visit my mum, play video games, hang with friends."

"I thought you said your mom left."

"She abandoned me for temporary boyfriends. My mother was a prostitute, but one day she left and never came back. I was a kid when I first got caught stealing from a food market, and before I knew it I was in the system. She's in a home now getting treatment for brain cancer."

"Wow, so how do afford this place?"

He laughs at my curiosity, I shrug chuckling, "Sorry I have nosey tendencies."

"This is actually where I grew up and the landlord knows my story, so he offered me a generous deal."

I swallow the pancakes, "Does he know you—?"

"What? That I'm a addict?" He laughs with a mouth full.

I nervously nod.

He shrugs, "Well I'd like to call myself a functional one, I don't share the same experiences as those other zombies, and yes, he does know." He scoffs.

The silence in the room was so deep, it feels as though even the air held its breath, waiting for something to break the stillness.

"Let's watch something." He mutters moving to grab the remote.

We sat slouching on the worn couch, flicking through channels, the fleeting shadows bounce off our faces from the dimly lit room. He was going fast when I saw something incredibly strange, I think I'm going mad.

"Wait stop go back." I squint my eyes sitting up. Charlie set the channels back at the same pace. "No go back slower." I slowly got off the couch as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I must of been seeing things.

My vision got blurry I held my hand out for him to stop. I move towards the screen as if I'm hypnotised by something controlling me.

My heart hammered in my chest as the room felt to close in, the noise of the newscaster's voice drowning into a hum. I couldn't tear my eyes away, the shock gripping me as though the very air had thicken with disbelief.

I drop to my knees silently crying.

The image on the screen suddenly searing into my mind, a headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen: Reign Gusev has been Murdered in Cold Blood.

A sudden banging at the door jolted me upright, my pulse quicken each thud sharp and urgent. The banging became relentless, each knock louder than the last, and my chest tighten as I began to hyperventilate, a tear soon fell down my cheek. Panic surged through me, my breath erratic.

What the hell is going on.

"It's okay.. just be calm I'll get it." He walks towards the door.

I terrifyingly shook my head, "D-don't C-Charlie, no!,"

He turns around, "it's probably just a friend of mine, they always knock like the police. It's actually starting to get annoying."

I kept shaking my head as tears left my eyes, "Please don't." I cry.

He chuckles reaching to open the door, "It's okay Amina, relax."

I scream, "Charlie!"

•••