Barely awakened, she rolled on her side turning her back to the morning sun.

She hated the sunrays peeking in the room. She remembered the good old days, back when she enjoyed this moment of the day. Every good memory was a knife cutting deep into her. Closing her eyes, she imagined bleeding out on her bedroom’s floor, and uncounsciously she grinned.

It had been a long journey to rock bottom. Slowly but surely, her demons had sucked every drop of joy from her life. She didn’t have anyone to blame for it, except herself. She had let them drag her down, and it was too late, now.

She rolled again flat on her back, and reaching a hand blindly on the wooden floor, searched for her pack of cigarettes, pulled one out and lit it. She took a long puff in, and stared at the smoke dancing out of the burning tip. Suddenly, she heard him as clearly as if he was lying next to her…

You know it’s going to kill you, right?

She smiled again. Was that a promise?

Realizing how vividly she remembered his voice, her smirk faded. Turning to lie on her stomach, she searched the floor for her cell phone. What if she sent him an innocent message? Just a bottle thrown in the sea… To see if he even remembered her name. If anyone could make a difference… But he would probably just mock her, giving the ultimate blow to her spiralling down fall.

The battery was dead.

Not even disappointed, she turned on her back, and sighed. She wished she could be allowed such a peacefull ending. But she wasn’t naive. Feeling the hardness of the ground under her, she wished it would swallow her whole.

Still, she had her doubts.

At least she had that.

 

 

#NovemberNotes2019 – I of the Storm by Monsters and Men

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In response to November Notes Writing Challenge by  Sarah Doughty of Heartstring