Maybe I had a death wish after all.
I stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, before I turned around and glanced at myself in the dirty mirror. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I wonder why she ever looked at me in the first place. Someone as innocent and pure as her doesn’t belong with a poisonous bastard like me.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out a plastic baggie filled with five Xanax pills and slapped the bag onto the counter. I diverted my eyes back to the mirror, glaring at the piece of shit staring back at me.
“Fuck you,” I growled, hanging onto the feeling of self-loathing, welcoming it and encouraging it to overcome me as I slammed my fist against the baggie on the counter. I pounded it over and over again, crushing the pills until they turned to dust. Then I emptied the contents onto the counter, not giving a fuck how dirty and disgusting the bathroom was because, all that mattered was getting my fix.
I was in the zone, anxious for the high that hopefully will come and wash away my thoughts of her.
She is my savior and my assassin.
The one that keeps me from ending it.
And yet, right now I’m slowly killing myself trying to escape the thoughts of her.
Lacey Parrish. Jack’s daughter. His fucking nineteen-year-old daughter who wasn’t even legally allowed to order a fucking drink so why the fuck was she in some bar.
I fought long and hard not to see her as a fucking woman, not to take what I so badly wanted. But like everything else in my life…I take and I take until there is nothing left.
She was so innocent, so pure, so untouchable and untainted.
I’m the filth that took her innocence, who touched her and tainted her.
But it wasn’t enough.
I kept going back for more.
I rolled the twenty-dollar bill, leaned over the counter dragging the bill across the powder and snorted the drugs up my fucking nose.
One rip.
Another.
Three rips later, I licked my finger tips and swiped them across the counter top, before popping my fingers into my mouth and sucking any residue of the pills from my skin.
No waste.
A true junkie.
I sniffled, wiping the excess powder from my nose before I turned around and unlocked the door, waiting for the numbness to inebriate me as I stepped out of the bathroom, colliding with the soft body I used to worship and call mine.
I stared into her sad eyes, knowing I was the reason she looked broken, just a shell of the girl she was before I touched her.
I ruined her just like I ruined Christine.
Everything I touch I destroy.
“How long are you going to pretend I don’t exist?” She finally asked, her voice just an octave above a whisper.
Pretend she doesn’t exist? She’s the only fucking thing that exists in my head. She’s the face I see when I wake, when I lay my head down and when I pass the fuck out from whatever poison I consume trying to forget that she does exist.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, took a step closer to her, the scent of her worked its way through my raw nostrils, more intoxicating than any drug I could ever snort or shoot through my veins. I leaned closer, closing my eyes and got high off her.
My sweet Lace.
So damn pretty.
So fucking innocent in all this.
“Until you disappear once and for all,” I said, opened my eyes and glared at her.
Go away Lacey.
One day maybe you’ll know why I did it.
Why I broke your heart and killed my soul.
I pushed past her, leaving her alone in the hallway, knowing my words were the reason her eyes were full of tears.
Cry.
Hate me.
I’m no good for you.
Run.
I ordered another shot, made it a double, and knocked it back. I placed the empty glass on the bar and from the corner of my eye I watched as she took her date’s hand and begged him to leave.
Thatta’ girl.
Get the fuck out of here.
“This one’s on the house,” the bartender offered, sliding me a refill.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“The bill is on the table,” someone said from behind me, causing me to glance over my shoulder and look at the kid holding Lacey’s hand.
Treat her good.
She didn’t look at me, keeping her back towards me as she followed him out the door and disappeared like I asked her too.
She should only know I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about her, that she’d never fucking disappear because she owned me.
Every moment we shared haunts me.
Starting with that first night when her hands trembled as she reached for my body and the way I took hers. The tears she cried that night and the words I wounded her with.
That was just the first night where lines were crossed but, there were a shitload more incidents I wreaked havoc on Lacey. But that night? That was the night I claimed her. In my dark world of self-destruction and mayhem, I selfishly took Lacey, branded her mine, and I continued to brand her and mark her with my actions and my words.