My Peace (Beautifully Broken 5)

I will tell Susanna how I feel about her, and she will be so grateful that I have come to save her. We will go live in my father’s cabin in the country. No one knows where it is, and Susanna can teach the boy herself. There will be no need for school. I don’t want any questions raised. I have thought of everything.

Our life will be grand.

She will be grateful.

He mentioned grateful twice.

He was definitely delusional. He thought he was rescuing my mother from a bad life. It would be laughable if it hadn’t ended so tragically.

She thought she was being kind to a loner.

And he was a loner.

But he was also crazy. We just hadn’t known it.

It makes me wonder how many people I’ve come into contact with in my life who have secretly been insane or twisted.

It’s amazing what can lie beneath a false demeanor.

Everyone has a façade, I guess.

My façade was that I’m not an addict.

I lied to myself and I lied to everyone else.

To be fair, I thought I wasn’t. But it was always there, under the surface, waiting to re-emerge.

Leroy might’ve forced my hand, but this is all me.

I’m pathetic.

I grab a box because what is the point of doing anything else now?

I’m going to die.

I’m an addict.

So I’m going to do what addicts do.

I use.

It’s cocaine this time.

I snort one line, then another.

I grab another box.

It doesn’t matter anymore. When they kill me, I won’t even notice.

I push the plunger of heroin into my arm.

The room swirls into a binge of bright colors, too much to fathom, too much to sustain. I close my eyes against the brightness, against the dizziness, and I swirl in and among them, a vague hue in a vibrant rainbow. I’m only a piece of this fabric, only a strand.

I’m unraveling, too.

I’m full of holes.

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