Tragic Magic (Ronnie Radke Love Story) [Book 2-sequel to The Drug In Me]

94. Haunted

**** so I think I'll make this story around 100 chapters, but I'm not sure exactly how many. But it's drawing to a close my lovelies. Thank you for sticking with me this long, and hopefully for long to come.

Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I was going to take a little break and just figure shit out for a while, distance myself, but I owe it to you guys, and frankly, it makes me feel better to spread the story for you guys so here I am

Also, the bold in the beginning is a dream/nightmare, for your information ****

*Ronnie*

Ryker was doing heroin. She was doing drugs, under my roof, under my nose. How could she?

"Don't touch me" I snarled at her, jerking away from her outstretched hand.

She held it to her chest as if I had burned it with my words. She was looking at me with glassy, trembling eyes. Her bottom lip was shaking, her eyes wet, a single tear escaping and rolling down her cheek.

I summoned all the anger in my body to fill me up with nothing else. I wouldn't let her pull me back with her sad looks and her intoxicating touch. If I had let her touch me I would have broke down and held her, I wouldn't have the heart to be mad at her.

But I had to be. I had to be mad at her. She deserved it. She went behind my back, she betrayed me. She not only did drugs behind my back, but right under my nose, in the bus, and now in my very own house.

I trusted her, I fucking trusted her! We even had sex, not mindless, I fucking made love to her. Me, saying I 'made love' to her? Thats how bad I have it. I fucking love her, I trusted her, and all this time she was betraying me, doing drugs. She just lead me to believe she was fine, when really she was fucking shooting up and drinking her pain away.

She couldn't escape it, I knew that much. No amount of drugs or alcohol could ever drown it deep enough to where it couldn't rise back up. I knew from experience.

"I never want to see you again" I spat at her, and then I stormed out, slamming the door behind her and locking her in. I jammed a chair under the knob so she couldn't leave, and I paced, collecting myself before looking up a rehab number and calling.

The phone didn't ring. No one picked up, no number was dialed. The phone wasn't working.

The lights flickered. I stumbled over to the bedroom to find the chair in pieces on the ground, the door kicked in.

The lights went out. I was left in the dark.

There was a sound of scraping on the walls, and uneven, heavy, stumbling footsteps heading my way. I fell to the floor and scooted along the wall, scared.

What was happening?

Then, the lights flickered and turned on, getting brighter and brighter until I couldn't see anything, getting so bright that the lightbulbs burst and exploded.

I rubbed my eyes and saw a white figure in front of me. I peeked at it, squinting and trying to get my vision back to normal to see who it was. When the blurriness fell away, the white figure started dripping, turning red, red dripping down it's body, covering it until it was red not white.

It had a syringe in it's hand, scratching it along the wall.

It gave a heaving lurch towards me and collapsed next to me. I stared at it and reached a hand to to check if it was still alive.

As my hand got closer to it, it suddenly jumped up and threw it's arm out, grabbing my hand and digging into it with sharp nails. It slammed the syringe into my leg and screamed a garbled, jumbled mess of a scream.

I finally saw its face, and nearly screamed, not because of the cuts and gashes, the blood pouring out of it's eyes, but because I recognized it.

"You. Did. This. To. Me" Ryker wailed at me before collapsing again, sinking to the floor and combusting into ashes.

I sat up with a start, breathing heavily. I rubbed my face and sighed, knowing based on previous nights experience that I wouldn't be getting anymore rest tonight. I would just keep having that same nightmare.

No rest for the wicked, I guess.

Each night it was different, but the concept was the same. Never the same nightmare, but it always started with the end of our argument and then had something to do with Ryker being hurt or dead or in pain, something.

I was on the start of the tour with Enter Shikari, I See Stars, and more bands. And every night, every night I had a nightmare and didnt sleep after.

I looked at the clock, groaning to myself. 3 am. Like clockwork, I was always up by 3 or 4.

It was like my mind was subconsciously making these nightmares to torture me. Because it was my fault Ryker left, my fault she's gone.

I pushed Ryker away. Thats why she was gone. She abandoned me because I pushed her away. Not even just pushed, I shot her over and over and shoved her into an abyss. That's how horrible I was to her. Even worse than that.

I got up and stumbled to the bathroom, splashing water on my face and then sitting on the toilet, holding my head in my hands.

She's gone. I have to live with that. Every day I have to wake up and realize that she's not here. Each day I have to wake up and deal with the fact that she's not lying in bed next to me.

And that's all because of me.

I had no idea how she was, where she was, what she was doing. I had no idea as to anything about her. She was a whisper in the wind, but the world was full of whispers, you can never find the exact one you're looking for, they all meld and tangle into one garbled mess.

She could be in an alley way high off her ass, not aware of anything around her. She could be living on the streets shooting up whatever she can find, with whatever she can find. She could be hiring herself out, desperate for a fix. She could be-she could be dead somewhere, and I wouldn't even know it!

She could be fucking dead, and the last thing I said to her was that I never want to see her again! What a lie for her to remember!

She could be dead and her last memory of me would be angry and hateful. She wouldn't remember the sweet me after she saw me that night. It's like they say, we remember the bad things, not the good things. And I gave her plenty of bad things to remember me by that night.

My last words to her were spat in angry, blinding hatred. I didn't really hate her, I was just mad. I didn't really mean that I never wanted to see her again. I just got lost in my anger, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean any of it!

But it was too late. It was too late to tell her that. She was gone, even if she was alive for me to tell her, I would never know. I may never see her again!

She was honoring the words I had spoken in blind anger. She was staying away from me. That or she's dead, or lost in the drugs, not even knowing who she is.

She really thought I meant it, didn't she? Of course, she's Ryker, she believes bad of herself enough already, and I only made it worse.

She doubts herself without reason, and I gave her a reason that night.

Fucking hell, I was supposed to help her, I should have helped her! She was in trouble, she needed my help, and what did I do? I yelled at her and locked her in a room with her drugs, letting her think that I hated her and wanted her gone from my sights, out of my life.

And now she was.

I should have saved her, I was supposed to save her!

But I didn't. And now she's gone, maybe forever.

And my last words to her.

My last words to her...

"I never want to see you again"

How could I have said that to her? It's my fault she's gone. It's my fault.

It's all my fault.