It was always the same. She'd spend the day worrying about her lectures or how badly she was doing, or maybe where she would get her next fix from, or how much money she needed until she could buy this or that, and she'd be fine. She lie down in bed, face up to the ceiling, hands throwing behind her head, legs crossed, and she'd start to remember again.
And tonight, her mind decided to revisit one of her favourite haunts…
The one thing she knew she could never escape was that night. The feel of Sian's lips on her own after one too many drinks wasn't sloppy at all, but feverish and forceful. Her hands were gentle, yet somehow when they ripped off Sophie's jacket, they were rough. When she finally fell above her, she felt Sian's hands place gently on her hips, her thumbs hooking into her trousers, tugging slightly.
In the present day, her eyes were already closed, her mind was reeling behind the darkness of her eyelids.
She saw it all again, she felt it too. The burning fingerprints of Sian's hands on her back, her chest, her stomach. The imprint of Sian's lips on her face, her neck, her shoulders. The feel of her fingers suddenly intertwining with her own, the pressing of their foreheads together and her breath colliding with her cheeks…
She tore her eyes open and stared up at the very blank ceiling, and held back a sob. Slowly, she tumbled out of bed and walked to her small bathroom, where a bottle of sleeping pills awaited her. She knew that taking three of those would knock her out flat, send her into an oblivious, dark slumber she would have no chance of breaking free from until late the next morning.
With the ghost of a lingering touch still on her body, with the sound of a whispered 'I love you' from aeons ago ringing in her ears, she popped open the bottle.