Prologue
I sat in the bathroom, my overheated back pressed against the cold porcelain of the bath. I didn't wear a shirt, sat in just my simple sleeping shorts, my lower leg bare and pressed against the freezing tiles. It was mid-winter, father has been too lazy since the divorce to put the heating on.
Yet here I was, sat in the bathroom in nothing but thin shorts and my own bare skin, trembling as a mixture of emotions rushed through my senses. My face was damp and sticky from the tears that refused to cease their flooding from my eyes, the blue orbs that used to be so vibrant and full of life, that were now dull and dead, void of any happy emotion.
I heard footsteps approaching quickly, loudly. As if the person was bounding two at a time up the stairs to get to the bathroom in which I lay. I allowed a small scoff to escape my lips. The person would have a fun time getting to me with the door bolted.
In my hand lay a large tub of pills, my usually tanned skin looked horribly pale, even while contrasted with the white tub, and my fingers were having a hard time trying to grip onto the cylinder through the vicious trembles.
Tears continued to trail down my face, but I didn't feel sad.
I didn't feel happy.
Or angry,
or hurt,
or anything.
I didn't feel anything.
I was numb.
Numb with the anguish that had finally taken over my life. I vaguely heard someone's weight being thrown against the bathroom door, several voices calling me, but I ignored them. They didn't matter