45. Lydia
Lydia
I can’t get out of bed, I can’t eat, I can’t turn the thoughts off, and I can’t make myself give a shit that I’m missing all my classes.
The only time I did manage to get my ass out of bed was three days after—after that party—when I called Atlas, desperate for something to help stop the spiral I was in.
I didn’t want Molly, I didn’t want weed, and I didn’t want Xanax.
I needed more. I needed something stronger to shut my fucking brain off.
I needed something that lasted longer, that took me further, that didn’t let me come back.
I wanted to feel like nothing exists…not even myself.
I cracked the door open just enough to see Atlas and let out a relieved breath.
“Hey,” Atlas said, eyes dropping to scan me, like he was trying to assess the damage he was looking at.
I stepped aside and he walked in, hands in the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t sit, just slowly started pacing back and forth in the small room.
“Atlas. Please. Sit the fuck down. You just got here, and you’re already stressing me out.”
He let out a sigh before he walked over to Lani’s bed, which is across from mine, and sat down. “I…heard what happened.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Well, that’s great. Does everyone fucking know?”
“I mean, I don’t think people have put a name or face to the story…but, yeah, it’s being talked about.”
My legs hung off the bed as I fell back, laying there, staring at the ceiling. “My trauma loves being on display. What’s new? It is what it is, I guess.”
“How are you feeling?”
Atlas might be some college drug dealer who acts all hard and tough around everyone else…but I think he actually kinda cares about me. Maybe not in a romantic way, but in more of like some fucked up family kind of way?
“I’m feeling like I don’t want to feel anything right now…”
“It’s not healthy to keep running, Lyd.”
I propped myself up on my arms and glared at him. “Don’t therapist me right now, Atlas. I don’t need a drug dealer judging me. I just need something to shut my fucking brain off, please. I’ll do the healing or whatever later.”
I hated the look of pity on his face.
“I have a couple of bars—”
“I told you that wasn’t going to help…I need something stronger, something that lasts longer. Fuck…don’t you have Oxy or something? Won’t that do more?”
“You don’t need that shit…” He shook his head. “You think you do, but you don’t. Oxy isn’t a party drug. It’s not something you just try because your head hurts.”
I felt the sting behind my eyes, but I didn’t let the tears fall. “I’m not trying to party,” I said quietly. “I’m trying to disappear.”
He let out a long, resigned sigh. “Jesus.”
“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I feel like I’m stuck inside my own head, and I want to get out, but I can’t. Everything hurts. Every breath. Every movement. Every second of every fucking day, and I don’t want to feel it.”
He got up and walked across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “So you want to trade your pain for a pill that’ll turn you into a fucking zombie? You know how that story ends.”
I met his eyes, not smiling. “Do I look like someone who’s afraid of how it ends right now, At?”
There was a long silence between us.
Then he just stood there, jaw clenched. “You’re hurting, and you’re not thinking straight. You think if you go numb, it’ll go away…but it won’t. The high fades, remember? And the pain’s still gonna be sitting right there, waiting for you.”
“I know that, Atlas,” I snapped. “But at least for a little while, I won’t have to look it in the face. I feel…” I tried to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get some kind of break from it…I just need a break, that’s all.”
He looked torn. I could see it. His eyes softened just a bit, and for a second, I thought I might’ve won, but then he shook his head again. “No. I’m not doing it. I’m not the guy who gives you your first taste of something that will ruin your life.”
That’s when the tears hit. Not quiet ones either—hot, messy, and angry ones.
“Fine, I’ll fucking find someone else who will then,” I told him as I stood up.
“Someone who won’t ask questions. Someone who probably won’t care what’s in what they’re giving me, or where it came from, or what happens to me after…
and if I die? If I take something and it actually kills me?
Just know you could have prevented that. ”
His face fell.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t put that shit on me.”
“I am putting it on you,” I yelled, pointing at him. “Because you’re the only person I trust to help me do this safely.”
“Safe?” he echoed as his eyes went wide. “There’s no safe way to take the kind of shit you’re asking for.”
“But you have it,” I pressed. “Don’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
“You have it, don’t you?” I repeated, desperate.
He ran a hand down his face. “Yeah. I have it. But I didn’t bring it for a reason.”
“Then go get it!”
He looked at me for a long time. Like he was looking for the version of me he met not too long ago. The version that wasn’t so far gone yet. But that girl was gone, probably for good.
He swore under his breath and pulled off his backpack as he unzipped the smallest pouch.
“Only take half at a time,” he said as he pulled out an unlabeled bottle and held it out to me. “That’s it.”
I took it from him slowly, and he watched me like he might have still snatched it back, but I quickly tucked it away before he could change his mind.
When I looked back up at him, I whispered, “Thank you.”
He swore again and headed for the door. Before he opened it, he paused and turned around to face me. “I know what pain feels like, Lydia,” he said. “But this ain’t the way to fix it.”
I shrugged. “It’s my way.”
He didn’t say anything else. Just opened the door and walked out.
* * *
It’s three o’clock in the afternoon on a Monday, and I just popped my fourth pill of the day.
The past week has gone by in a complete blur.
Simone and Lani keep constantly checking on me, trying to help, trying to get me out of bed, trying to do anything to fix this…
but nothing works, nothing they can do, at least. Thankfully, they can’t just stop their entire lives for me, so I get a break from their worrying while they’re in classes most days.
I know they think I’m just depressed, that this might be normal after what happened.
Hell, Simone has watched this spiral happen more times than she can probably count over the years.
But I don’t think she knows how deep I’ve actually fallen this time, how I have these new little friends now who help me get out of my head.
I usually just pop the pills; it’s easier that way, easier to hide. But after taking the last one and the thoughts only growing louder, I had no other option but to get the job done another way.
Sorry, my guy, this might hurt a little, but it’ll be worth it—well, for me at least.
I grab the thermos from beside my bed and roll it on top of the pills until they’re broken down. As soon as I snort the line, I can feel it. I lie back on the bed, the book I just used falling off my lap beside me.
Everything…starts to slow.
My thoughts. My breathing. Even the pain finally starts to fade, drifting far, far away.
Not completely gone, just…distant. Like it’s still in the room with me, but I barely notice it.
Like I could reach out and touch it if I really wanted to, but I don’t.
Fuck, I really don’t. I don’t want anything to do with it.
I’m floating away…and not in the way people normally talk about with uppers—there’s no neon light show or trippy colors.
Just this…warmth. Like I’m underwater, but I’m not drowning.
Like my bones are made of clouds. I could lie here like this forever and be fine.
There’s no ache in my chest. No tightness behind my eyes.
No guilt. No grief. No anxiety. No memory of all the people who have hurt me.
I don’t think I can even remember my name at this point.
It’s all just…static. Soft, gentle static humming in the back of my brain.
I feel nothing.
And that’s the best part.
I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here, could be five minutes, could be an hour. Doesn’t matter. Time isn’t real. My body feels like it’s melting into the bed, like I’m sinking deeper with every breath I take.
My limbs are heavy, and I love it. I love not caring. I love that nothing matters. I love that I don’t have to be anything for anyone, that I can just be nothing for a little while. If this is what peace feels like, I get why people never come back.
The scary thing is, I’m not scared. I’m not panicking.
I’m not crying. I’m not wishing someone would come find me and ask if I’m okay.
Because right now? I think I actually am.
Or at least it’s easier to pretend like I am, which is close enough.
Close enough to quiet the voice in my head that’s always screaming.
Close enough to forget how hard it is to be alive sometimes.
My lips are numb, my hands tingle a little, and my mouth’s dry…but I can’t make myself care. My eyelids keep getting heavier and heavier, and a small part of me wonders if I’ll wake up from this or not. I can’t tell if that thought makes me nervous…or relieved.
“Lydia! What the fuck?”
Lani’s voice cuts through the high like a knife. I feel like I flinch, but I don’t think I actually move. I hear her footsteps getting closer, feel the shift in the bed as she kneels next to me.
“Lydia…” Her voice breaks this time. “What did you do?”
I try to open my mouth, try to tell her I’m fine. But my tongue feels like rubber, and my thoughts are soupy.
What kind of soup would…I be?
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
“I’m okay,” I mumble, but it barely comes out. “I just…I just needed to sleep. M’fine.”
“Fine?” she repeats, staring down at the powdered remains on the book next to me.
I see her eyes flick to the card, to the rolled-up paper, to my rock bottom—Is this my rock bottom?
I don’t know. I think I could still go a little further, don’t you think?
Wait…are you real? Are you listening to my thoughts?
“Lydia, what the fuck did you take?”
I shrug, not wanting to tell her. “Nothing, I’m okay,” I whisper. “You’re freaking out for nothing…just relax.”
“Relax?” Lani snaps. “You’re barely breathing. There are literal drugs on your bed!”
I feel her get up from the bed, and I turn my head to see that she’s started pacing.
What is with people and pacing this tiny ass room? There’s literally nowhere to go.
“Screw this. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No,” I groan, forcing my eyes half open. “Don’t…please. I’ll be fine…I just wanna sleep, Lani. Please.”
“Then I’m texting Simone.”
If I could move right now, I would have jumped up and screamed at her not to do that.
“Lannn…fuck.” I squeeze my eyes shut, annoyed that she’s ruining this high for me. “She doesn’t need to know. She worries too much about me already. She’ll…she’ll just try to fix me…and I…I can’t be fixed.”
I turn my head and try to open my eyes back up as best as I can. Lani’s eyes are locked on mine, filled with tears.
“Hey…” I whisper to her. “It’s okay…I’m…okay. I promise. I know what I’m doing.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” she bites out through the tears, shaking her head in disbelief. “How long, Lydia? How long has this been going on? Since that party?”
I let the weight of my lids fall closed again. “What party?” I ask slowly. “The one I almost got raped at because I’m such a whore?”
I feel her sit back down next to me and place her hand over my limp one, not saying anything.
“Or what party are we talking about exactly? And what are we actually talking about? When did the drugs start? Or…the pain?”
I feel something wet hit the back of my hand, and I don’t need to look to know it’s her tears…but she can save them. I don’t need them. They shouldn’t be wasted on me.
“There was a party I got raped at before, though. Did you know that?”
“No,” she whispers, letting me continue, or just not being able to get any other words out right now.
“Yep…” I say, popping the P. “In high school…and do you know who did it, Lani?”
“No.”
I let out a small, bitter laugh. “My boyfriend…the boy who told me…he loved…me…loved me more than he loved himself. He constantly raped me…but he…” I sigh, “he told me that wasn’t rape…
that he was my boyfriend, so it…wasn’t possible to rape me.
But it’s funny…the same fear I felt under that stranger…
I felt with a boy who was supposed to…protect me?
Love me? I don’t fucking know. Then, he killed himself in front of me. Real fun experience.”
“Lydia…”
I can’t raise my arm, but I still manage to lift my hand in an attempt to wave her off.
“It is what it is. Don’t feel bad for me.
Hell, the pain started loooong before he came around anyway.
He just…took something that already…had a lot of…
cracks in it…and then shattered it. He did what he wanted to…
though. He made sure…no one else could ever have me.
Let’s face it, no one else will ever want someone this…
someone this broken. Even if they did…I don’t want them…
I don’t even think I want to be…here. Why waste… my time with…a man?”
Lani pulls me into her lap, holding me as she cries. I lean my head into her chest and listen to her heartbeat. Something about it is so soothing. Hearing what a heart is supposed to sound like when it isn’t broken.
“You need help, Lydia…please. I can’t watch you do this to yourself.”
“Don’t look…”
“Not funny, Lydia.”
“Sorry…” I let out a sigh. “Let’s make a deal? If you promise not to tell Simone…I’ll stop, okay? I won’t do any more.”
“How can I trust that?”
I shrug. “I guess…you’re just gonna…have to.”
“Will you go back to class, too?”
“Now you’re asking for a lot…and honestly…I’m a little too high to be having this conversation…”
“I’m serious, Lydia. You can’t throw away your life and get kicked out of college.”
I’m trying to fight the pull of exhaustion, but I want to give in and let go. “Fine…I promise. Now let me sleep, Lani…please. We can…talk later…okay?”
“Okay…”