“There’s a necklace on the sink.  Make sure he gets it back.  I’m so sorry.”

I stood staring into the mirror, a half empty bottle of vodka and a bottle of painkillers in front of me, and watched a lone mascara tinted tear trail down my cheek.

What the fuck are you doing? 

Such a beautiful waste.  I could almost feel his hands brush through my hair, his alcohol scented breath on my ear.  It was pretty though….

You are mine. 

I could feel the numbness spread over my body, such perfect relief.  Like a dream, dancing in and out of consciousness….

Call me, Stella, please.  

I should have known, another failure.  Even death didn’t want to deal with my bullshit.



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