Chapter 46
SOREN
The pills are my best friends. Fuck having a brother, I decide as I crush two beneath a paperweight.
I lick the remnants off the bottom of the weight, feeling the bitterness coat my tongue with a sense of morbid pleasure.
I’ll be numb soon. Daddy’s credit card cuts the line, and I roll up a bill to quickly sniff the lines off the table.
Shit burns my nose, then slips down the back of my throat for the next hour, but at least it’s fast, and I can’t feel anything else.
Regular noises of life come from my brother’s side of the suite, each one a reminder that he wants nothing to do with me.
My lip is swollen from the punch. My mouth tastes like blood and pills dripping down my throat.
Who knows where they went or what they did last night, just that it didn’t include me.
The upside is that it was quiet. That nothingness isn’t nearly as complete as normal, and my own awareness is an inch beneath my skin, along with everything else.
Minutes pass by, and I wait for that blissful moment when my mind leaves me behind entirely, but too many things hurt. One more pill hits the desk, and I crush it into a single line, snorting it and feeling a singular sense of disgust with myself. Fuck, I moan as it kicks in.
Orion curses, and while it’s likely not aimed at me, it might as well be.
What is the TV, or someone on his damn phone, worth in a conversation, but I get punched without a chance to defend myself?
“Fuck you too,” I say out loud, not knowing what to do with myself anymore.
Everything inside me itches to go out there and talk to him, to beg him to understand and forgive me, but I know he won’t. My brother just isn’t the type.
Several bottles of whiskey line the shelf, and while the rest of the room is a complete disaster, these remain untouched.
I don’t think the pills are going to do it tonight, and if I have any chance of surviving in here with him on the other side of the wall, I need something more.
With the best intentions, I begin drinking from a shot glass.
I swallow the shots so quickly that it doesn’t even feel like a challenge, and soon, I toss the shot glass aside, letting it smash on the floor.
The cleaning girl must have come in earlier.
I might feel guilty for fucking up her hard work, but I forget about her and drink straight from the bottle instead.
A little while later, the bottle is empty too, and I do feel better in some ways.
If better is so fucked up that I can’t see straight and am barely even aware I have a brother.
Yes, definitely better. He’s quiet now, probably asleep, but I’m urged to get the fuck out of this room and away from the scene of all the misery.
Moonlight shines through the stained glass as I open my door and check if there’s anyone around before I leave.
The hall is empty, crooked, spinning a little bit, but a hand on the stone wall seems to anchor me mostly as I close the door behind me.
Trying to keep myself straight proves harder than I expected, and as I walk, I find myself leaning and dragging against the wall for support.
A maniacal peal of laughter leaves me, and I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve laughed in months, and maybe it’s because I’m so fucked up I might actually be in danger.
Everything seems silly to me at the moment, and I keep laughing for the joy of it.
It’s been so damn long. I keep moving toward the moonlight.
I’m called to it. My hand presses against the cold glass, and I stare into the night for a while, thinking about how pretty it is right now and how very ugly it will be when I sober up.
There’s no way for me to be this fucked up all the time.
The pills are one thing. I’m making an ass of myself, but I can walk.
I can’t get fucked up like this every day.
But here’s the kicker. This is by far the best I’ve felt in so long.
It’s the only time life has felt even slightly worth living in the past month, except for when we found Sable alive.
The knowledge that this won’t happen again carves deep into my chest. If I can’t have Sable and I’m forced to be constantly miserable, what the fuck is the point?
I’m going to puke by the end of the night, and maybe even piss myself.
Is this the type of mess I want to leave for people to clean up?
Maybe there’s an easier solution for all of us.
My fingers work the old latch until it finally creaks open.
I push the pane of glass until it swings wide open, revealing the night air without anything in between.
It’s even prettier this way, cold as hell too, with the wind whipping against the mountain.
I test the width of my shoulders against the opening, and there wouldn’t be any problem with me jumping out.
I’d like to say I’ve never been suicidal, but it’s simply not true.
I’ve wanted to end things before, but there was always Orion.
At the end of the day, I could never do that to him. Now? I’ll be doing him a favor.
Wind blows in my face, and I briefly think about the fact that I’ll never see the spring or summer again.
Orion and I have a summer birthday, and I’ve never felt particularly drawn to the snow, but everything is different now.
If I don’t come down from this high, I never have to feel how low I’ve really sunk.
I climb up onto the ledge. A deeply buried part of me complains that this is the wrong course of action, that I’m too fucked up to make decisions like this right now, but that’s what I want, isn’t it?
The sky is empty, but a light flickers somewhere far in the distance.
A desperate voice asks me what it is, tells me I’ll never know if I do this right now.
The icy wind sweeps the doubts out of my mind, and suddenly, I’m certain.
Instead of looking out, up, and over, I look down.
The fall is far more than enough to kill me, but I’m slightly concerned I’ll painfully bounce off the rocks once or twice before coming to a final impact.
Isn’t that exactly what I deserve, though?
Isn’t there some measure of justice in me suffering for everything that’s been done to Sable?
Peace takes over, the last thing I’d expect to feel as I contemplate my death, but killing those who harm Sable makes sense in every fiber of my being.
I stand at my full height and look down, holding the frame with a strong grip.
My knees buckle, and I sway, laughing as I do.
I was too fucked up to stand on my own in the hall, and I won’t last long up here.
My stomach quakes as I realize how much I would struggle to turn around now.
Why am I so scared now? I’m doing the right thing. Very soon, the pain will be over, and I won’t ever have to be ashamed when I look in the mirror again.
“Soren?” a soft voice calls out, and I almost fall from the ledge.