43. Bailey
forty-three
Bailey
One Week Later
I wake up with a splitting headache and swollen eyes.
Reaching for the bottle on my nightstand I take a few swigs and cough before lying back down, begging sleep to give me a few more hours of reprieve.
My throat threatens to close, cutting off my airway as my chest constricts around what’s left of my heart.
A sob shakes me. It’s gut-wrenching and primal. A harrowing sound so innately foreign to me. Hot tears streak my cheeks as I glance around my room. My teeth chatter as my body quakes with grief. I’m broken, sobbing, and alone.
She’s gone and I’m alone.
I reach for my lifeline and swallow it greedily, praying for relief that only it can provide.
Numbness the only alternative to agony.
There is nothing in between.
No coping or treating, just a pendulum swinging violently.
I find what I’m searching for in the bottom of the bottle—oblivion.
“Bailey.”
It’s dark. Warm, dark, and painless.
“Bailey,” a voice again calls. I don’t answer, the void surrounding me all-consuming but still welcoming in its promise.
“Bailey!” I startle at Peyton’s voice as she shakes my shoulders. Fuck.
“Huh?” I say, eyes bleary with exhaustion. She takes a seat next to me on the bed and gently rubs my back. “What are you doing here?” I ask, my mind failing to gather any relevant information.
“Oh Bays, today is the funeral. You have to get up and start getting ready. I don’t think you’ve showered all week. I promised you I would get you there, even in pieces,” she replies softly.
A weak choking sound escapes my lips as I peer up at her, daring to let her see the sorrow that consumes me.
I don’t know where I end and anguish begins—the lines so muddled that nothing matters anymore.
I plead with my brainstem to stop demanding I inhale and exhale, a mercy I won’t be granted.
My hands tremble as I reach for the nightstand, last night’s bottle resting on its side, bone dry and mocking. The drawer complains as I pull, shedding light on my desperation. That single fucking feather flitters as I shut it, pushing all of it behind me for tonight.