Carlo

Chapter 50

Dear Journal,

It's getting bad again.

The thoughts. The voices.

They have been for three days now, ever since we got back from the ice cream shop four days ago. But something tells me this time it's going to be much worse than the last.

I don't want to get used to the numb feeling alcohol gives me. I don't want to get used to the feeling of relief when my blood drips to the floor. I don't want to feel comfortable in the darkness that death created for me.

I don't want it to feel good when I don't eat. I don't want my hopes to vanish like the smoke I replace my oxygen with.

But, I need the booze running down my throat to numb the pain. I need the blade, so that the red fluid can fall to the floor and my mind can get a break from this shitty reality.

I really hate all my needs.

Amore, xx

Today, I will be going to another parents funeral.

Not that I want to. But hey how many funerals can someone attend before they turn nineteen?

I can just add Santiago to the list.

I'm also being forced. Yes literally being forced. I was woken up extra early and dragged out of bed by my ankle.

Santiago's body isn't even going to be in the casket! He blew up.

But, when I was laying on the floor after getting dragged I had an epiphany. I will not wear the black dress chosen for me to wear to this funeral.

No, no. I will be wearing the red dress I want to wear, I don't want to feel as if he is still forcing me to wear the clothes he wants me to wear. So just to piss off Father dearest I'm doing what I want.

"ADELAIDE COME ON!" Carlo's voice sounds through the bedroom door.

"Leave without me. I'll meet you there!" I shout back.

There's a few moments of silence before he speaks again, "Can I have a kiss then?"

I roll my eyes and walk towards the door, opening it and only sticking my head out of the door. I pucker my lips up and peck his lips quickly before I close the door on him again.

"I LOVE YOU!" He shouts.

"I LOVE YOU MORE, BITCH!" I shout hearing him chuckle on the other side of the door.

I go over to the mirror and add red lipstick to my lips. I have fake lashes on and that's all because I feel too lazy to do anything else.

I quickly straighten my hair and brush my fingers through it. Once I put the dress on I stand in front of the mirror and stare at the girl looking back at me.

I look into their eyes. Tired, miserable eyes, they look different. Full. The smudges on the mirror seemed to point out their flaws, I looked closer. My finger poked at the bags that lay underneath. This isn't me. I'm brighter than this,

Lighter.

Happier.

My eyebrows furrow up and I step back once I've realised, it is not the sleep I need, when it's my mind that is tired.

Is this what hitting rock - bottom feels like?

Have I lost myself?

Again?

Stop thinking like this.

I take a deep breath and make sure my thigh holster is tightened and my guns aren't noticeable. I grab a red lolly pop and unwrap it whilst walking out of the bedroom.