Lost in a Reverie 18+ Only (Book 1 of Lastor Series) ['23/'24 EDIT]

Chapter 50

I sat by the beach, a bottle of Jack in one hand and a cigarette in the other. It was dark, probably nearing midnight, but I couldn't sleep after waking up screaming this afternoon. I've spent the night trying to drown away that awful dream. I refuse to think of it. I refuse to remember. It was so awful.

Andrea had filled me in with what I've missed. Apparently, I'd gone and lost my mind for half a day. Imagine how much that fucked with my head after waking up with nothing but the memory of me snorting lines of coke and popping MDMAs while chugging vodka in Andrea's bathroom after waking up being tortured by acute withdrawal symptoms this morning.

I sighed, finishing my cigarette before throwing it in the water and taking a swig from my bottle. I didn't even know what I was doing anymore, if there was a point to any of this. It just felt better to drink while not knowing.

I should be used with this type of shit by now, waking up one day and not knowing what I'd done or where I'd been or how I hurt myself. Maybe it was my mind's way of protecting me, sparing me from whatever sins I committed while I was out of my mind. It was like getting away with murder, no matter how much I washed myself I still felt dirty. I could pretend it wasn't there, but it was, pestering my conscience like an itch that I couldn't reach.

"Don't you think you've had enough already?" Rick said as he sat beside me.

He was a tamer version of my brother. He may not be freaking out but he refused to leave my side. He's been following me around all day.

I lit up another cigarette before answering, "I'm self-medicating."

"You're killing yourself."

I snickered, pressing the back of my hand against my lips to keep myself from spitting out the whiskey and quickly swallowing it down.

"You say that as if I haven't been killing myself all this time," I muttered wryly.

"You weren't yesterday," he said quietly. "You were with me the entire time, but you're not now. When are you coming back to me, Angel?"

"Ah, you're insufferable," I said with a laugh. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"When I die, will you mourn for me?"

He sighed. "You can't ask me that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to fucking die, Angel."

I stared at him for a long moment before looking away. "You know-" I paused, blowing out a stream of smoke. "- just cuz I'm playing nice doesn't mean I've flipped. I'm a ticking time bomb, Rick. I'm no better than the girl you met five months ago. Don't forget that."

"I haven't."

I blew out a sharp breath, throwing my cigarette aside and tearing my fingers through my hair.

"When you leave, it's going to hurt like hell."

I caught his hands curl into fists as he remained facing front.

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "But for how long?"

* * *

I've committed a lot of sins in my young life, and I was well aware that if I had a soul, it could no longer be salvaged. But as sick and evil as I can be, I always endeavored to keep my word.

Jude taught me at a young age that we were only as good as our word and breaking a promise was the worst betrayal one could commit because a promise meant there was trust. There can never be a promise without trust. That is why I don't ever break a promise.