#itsonlynaoms

Taking them orally was nice enough but it took some research from her part to learn that if you injected the medication into your bloodstream the effect would be instantaneous.  Effy being the resourceful girl that she was had managed to convince the kid who lived next door to steal a few syringes from the local pharmacy in exchange for some spliff. But after staring at the needle for 20 minutes she decided that she couldn’t do it. Even though she had what she needed Effy could not do it. Last time she shot something in her system she overdosed, bad.  She decided she was just going to put everything in her purse for safe keeping until she felt like she was ready to hit rock bottom. 

The taxi didn’t take that long to arrive and soon enough Effy was on her way back to London. The closer she got to her destination the more her chest started to cave in. “Are you okay miss?” A pair of eyes staring at her through the rearview mirror as Effy faked a smile and nodded. “Fine, thanks.” But she wasn’t fine. There was nothing fine about her current predicament. There was nothing fine about how empty she felt. Nothing fine about wanting to be dead and still having to drag her body around like a heavy weight she could easily live without. 

Nothing was fine.

The driver swiped her credit card adding a lot more debt to the pile she already had. Her dad had made it perfectly clear that she was not going to be getting any help from him until she decided to get help herself. And to Jim Stonem, help was getting hospitalized once again for who knows how long. Effy didn’t have her keys anymore but her landlord lived in the flat below hers. She recognized her immediately and handed her a copy of her keys. After asking a few questions she informed Effy that she was behind on the last month’s rent but that she was giving her some time due to her attack. Nice. It was not like she was staying here anyway.  

It was hard to go up the steps when her stomach was still trying to heal. Effy was not letting it heal. Part of her didn’t want the wounds to heal because the physical pain was a good distraction. She could focus on that and forget she even had a heart. The moment she stepped into the flat she wanted to vomit. Everything had been clean but Effy could still see the blood ... everywhere. Blue eyes scanning every corner of the living room. 

This is where I fell. This is where he choked me. This is where he kicked me. This is where he stabbed me.

The memories were horrendous, but they were nothing compared to the ones that followed. The bedroom. That was the worst room in the entire flat. The sonogram image of Lizzie was still where she left it, by her dresser. She reached for it, staring at it for a few moments before ripping it to pieces. Everything that was hurting happened here. They were intimate here. They were happy here. They were going to be parents here. 

This is where you told me you loved me. 

Effy crawled up on the bed, lying over sheets that hadn’t been washed since they were last together. Hugging pillows that still smelled like him. And she cried. Rivers running down her cheeks. She cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. Breathlessly, she pulled her body to a sitting position reaching for her bag. Everything was still in there. Everything had to still be there. Effy’s hands dug into her purse in desperation and ended up tossing everything to the ground until she found what she was looking for. There were metaphors upon metaphors about storms and girls and on her best days Hurricane Effy would classify herself as a Category 3 (devastating damage will occur) — but with the introduction of of all the shit that had happened in her life lately, she’d been steadily grading upwards. The storm that was encroaching was a solid Category 5. 

Catastrophic damage will occur.

Fuck short cuts. If she was going to self destruct she was going to do it right. 

Just this once. 

Preparing it was easy enough. Crush the bright yellow pill and dilute it in water. She sat on her bathroom floor as she finished fixing her shot and used one of Cook’s belts to make her vein pop. Just this once. With trembling hands she took the needle to her arm. She knew exactly where her vein was, but this wasn’t something she did alone. Usually someone else did it for her and it had been far too long. Back when she was young and reckless and and things to look forward to.

Just. 

This. 

Once. 

Effy took a deep breath and hoped for her aim to be right as she sunk the needle in her arm. She screamed, bit her lip so it wouldn’t be as loud, but it wasn’t right so she did it again, and again until the fourth or fifth attempt and slowly pumped the liquid into her vein. The relief was automatic, but she could feel the substance running through her bloodstream and the pain became unbearable. Soon her body was giving up and she was laying on her side, but it wasn’t leaving. Not the burn, not the voices, not the sound of her own blood pumping in her ears or her heart drumming against her throat.

[insert erratic breathing track here]

She opened her eyes what seemed like hours later and the sun was gone from the window. Effy was confused, and disoriented. She knew where she was but not for how long, let alone why she was there until she propped herself on one arm and a throbbing pain made it give in. Right. The needle was still stuck in her skin and she hissed as she took it out and wrapped it in a piece of toilet paper before flushing it. Effy allowed herself to sob one more time before leaving the bathroom again. She walked towards the bed, her eyes red and puffy and circled by a dark violet shadow. 

She wanted to cry again, fall on her knees and cry until her eyeballs slipped out of their sockets and was found dead maybe a day or two later, but she couldn’t. Her misery was too loud to let her do as she pleased. Instead, she took her phone and her fingers quickly typed the words she should’ve already saved as a preliminary message.  She saw the time. Three in the morning. She fiddled for a couple seconds wondering if it was a good idea. No it wasn't one at all. “i miss u." Delete. “i love u.” Delete. “go fuck yourself!.” Delete. Delete. Delete.