Thread: This Skin is Stained

Marie is still alive, right? She said, her voice carrying a harsh tone. She didn't care and yet she did that he was left by his girlfriend. She had liked Marie, thought she had a good head on her shoulders and a good person to lean on. But if this whole, I'll spill my guts if you do, routine wasn't working for her. She didn't talk to anyone about her demons, about how she'd tried to kill herself a few times before her body told her it wasn't gonna happen. All the pills and drinking, though, that might kill her. But hey, if it was an accident, she might go somewhere pretty when she died, right? It didn't matter because she probably wouldn't see Rafe in another life anyways. He'd probably moved on. That thought churned her insides and she took a breath to calm herself. As much as she had hated those white walls in the rehab facility, the calming techniques had made it easier to not OD. Even if she wanted to, she wanted to go out in her own way not because she'd taken one too many pills. Woe is me, She mocked, clearly not giving a damn about his pain. He got dumped because of his own stupidity while her lover, her fiance , had been taken from her over the course of weeks. She'd recovered while he'd been in a coma before one night, he'd just died while she had been holding his hand. It made her feel like she hadn't been a good enough reason for him to fight to live. She had been left with memories and his things at her place. She hadn't even known she was pregnant until the miscarriage the doctors had caused trying to stitch up her body. He had no idea what she had suffered and what she suffered still. Why was she letting her mind get that far in? She needed her pills and felt the shakes in her hands start up. She clenched them tight and tried her calming technique again. It wasn't really working. It never really worked for long. You've seen the aftermath of horrible stuff. You haven't been in the thick of it like a bar fight that gets so out of hand someone gets shot in the head next to you. Please, spare me the details, I'm not the same woman you met two years ago nor the same woman you knew eight months ago. She lit up another cigarette, unable to stop the smoking as long as she didn't have her pills and had to keep talking to him. She really didn't want to do either, but the smoking calmed her down further even though she knew it was only a temporary fix. It was always a temporary fix, but she still needed it to get by. She didn't have anything to really help her get by anymore. She'd been adopted as a baby, so her family wasn't really her own, but it hadn't mattered much. They were still family, but it meant something now. She was in a sea of strangers without her anchor to hold her sane. She took a drag and let it out slowly, feeling her mind reeling from wanting some real peace. Some of her pills were to help her sleep, some were not. She hadn't had a good night sleep since Rafe graced her bed. And now, she didn't think she ever would. Her mind would never stop playing all those godforsaken memories. I don't drink coffee. Never have. She murmured, putting out her third cigarette even though she still had half of it left. She wasn't going to ask him for anything, even if she desperately wanted some water or tea. She wrapped her arms about her legs and rested her chin on her knees, looking at the wall. It was grimy and covered with writing, but it was better than looking at a grim reminder of her past.