"Do you remember? The riding, the passion, the falling over. And tripping on ice, sharing advice, taking it twice... But let us not forget the, silent day, stripped away, time and place. Oh, you choose not to remember, fly away, counting days I'm hiding, from you, ooh... I'm thinking it's the, know that it's the. I'm thinking it's the bad, bad blood..." -Nao💋
Prologue💋
Ariel'Ari'Jones
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November2018 I was lying on the hard, cold floor in the bathroom of the famous Mansions club in Downtown Manhattan. It is one of the most upscale and renowned clubs in the world, yet I was at the lowest point of my life. With my head next to the toilet, I was alone, broke, with no friends and no hope.
It had been a long, hard trip that led to this fall. It was a wild roller coaster ride which included some of the good, the bad, and the ugliness of my life.
For the past few months I rode it out, and things were starting to finally fall into place for me. I had money, my own car, apartment in a prestigious neighborhood, and I was dating one of the most notorious drug dealers in the city.
But here I lay on a cold bathroom floor, hugging the toilet's frigid porcelain, completely hopeless. I was broke, single, had nowhere to go, and probably dying. The last thing I remembered, was my body shaking violently as I sat on the toilet with my head in my hands, and my friend Erica hovering over me asking if I was okay.
But now I was on the floor, and she was gone. Can I move? Was the only thought swirling around in my head. I tried to say something to make sure that I was still alive, but I couldn't. I tried to move my legs, and it worked. I stood up gingerly and made my way to the sink.
I looked around the small, one-stall bathroom. It was dimly lit and tiny, yet elegant. I held on to the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. My pupils were fully dilated, and I could feel my knees wobbling beneath me. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to snap out of the trouble I was so obviously in.
I looked at my jewelry and clothes. I still wore the flawless 18karat rose gold diamond Atlas Pierced Pendant necklace, along with a matching 18karat diamond Tennis bracelet that my ex-boyfriend had given to memonthsbefore. My gold ring and diamond earrings were gifts purchased at Tiffany's.
My chrome rose gold long coffin shaped nails were perfectly manicured, and my long jet black hair hung freely down to the middle of my back. My light brown tattooed skin had been tanned by the Brooklyn sun, and my eyes were a rare hazel green thanks to my families genetics.
My face was made up to perfection, compliments of Fenty and MAC cosmetics. My high-waisted skinny jeans were a two hundred dollar pair by fashion icon Marc Jacobs, and the rest of the ensemble followed suit.
Everything was designer made, from my jewelry to my makeup to the clothes I wore; even the drugs I'd consumed...
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor again. When I came to form another bout of convulsions, my tongue was swollen and bloody. I crawled up from the floor and made my way back to the sink to splash more water on my face.
I desperately wanted someone to walk in and help me, but no one came. I began to panic, with thoughts of my late father racing through my head.
I thought of how awful it would be if I died in the bathroom at Mansions. I thought of the irony of it all. I thought of how pretty and rich I looked, yet my life had become ugly and poor.
But the most prominent thought, was of my mother. We hadn't spoken in years and I feared that I would never get the chance to mend things between us because no one had no idea on how to find me.
No one even knew my real name or where I lived or who my family was or where I came from. To them, my name was Ari', a nickname that my late father gave to me when I was a child, before committing suicide.
I thought of how precious my life was and wanted to live. I thought if I screamed for help as loud as I could, God would hear me and allow me another chance at life. God had to know that despite everything I had done until this point, I did love myself and I wanted to start over the right way.
I stumbled to the bathroom door, opened it, and began to scream for help into the stairwell that led down stairs into the main area of the club. I screamed help over and over until my voice was gone. No one heard me.
I stumbled back into the restroom to splash more water on my face, hoping the water alone would be enough to reverse what I had done. My heart was racing, and its beat was all I could hear in my head. There were sweat beads on my face. My mouth was dry and my vision blurred.
My body went into convulsions three, four more times, each time landing me on the cold hard tile. No one was there for me. I was going to die alone...
