“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? You fucking attention whore.
That necklace, such a beautiful waste. I could almost feel his hands brush through my hair, his whiskey 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. Please, princess….
I should have known, another failure. Even death didn’t want to deal with my bullshit.