I nearly failed the history test that I'd taken three days ago. A seventy one. Father was clearly disappointed, but since I technically passed he didn't openly berate me, only make passive aggressive comments and push me to study more. Without the Valium, would I have even gotten half that score?
The Valium.
I'd texted Logan telling him I didn't want the drugs right after the high left and my common sense returned. I wasn't a drug addict. It was one time, just for the test.
One time that I very, very much enjoyed.
No. I don't do drugs. They aren't the right way. But what is? Just letting myself die in despair? Waiting for a saviour, another Maya, to come drag me out of the hellhole I'd been falling into for years?
It hadn't worked so far. Every candidate for that saviour came to the same conclusion when they were trying to pull me up. That I wasn't worth saving. So they let go, and I just fall deeper and deeper each time.
I couldn't put my life in the hands of whatever saviour I find. It'd failed last time. But maybe putting my life in the hands of drugs would be better. Drugs didn't leave or betray.
I'm not a druggie.
Dad was going to be gone for a week, starting today. Not a rare occasion. He'd been gone for a whole month last year. Didn't even have a babysitter for me, just telling the neighbours to make sure I don't die or burn the house down.
You're a man now, he'd said. You don't need me watching over you every day, he'd said. I told Logan that my dad was away. He suggested he come over with James, Cameron, and Lucy, who had now turned into my group.
My group.
A group where I was someone. Where I wasn't just ignored. It only made me wonder how long it'd be before they have the same realization everybody else has, and leave me.
Now they were coming. Two hours they'd said. I put on a hoodie, covering up the cuts on my arms. I'd done it again. One hour ago. Grabbed the knife. Went to the bathtub. Made a small, shallow cut on my forearm. Another one, slightly deeper. Another one, even deeper. The blood had reached ankle height in the small bathtub before I bandaged my arms.
But more importantly, I hadn't thought of Maya or my mother or any of the "friends" who'd ghosted me a single time when in that bathroom. My brain had been too busy with the physical wounds I'd created to consider the emotional ones. And I much preferred the physical pain to the emotional pain.
And I deserved it. People left for a reason. I don't know why, but there had to be one. It was something about me though. I knew that. I didn't deserve to have intact skin. Didn't deserve the blood in my body, didn't deserve life. I needed to punish myself for being the way I am. Unlovable.
I clean up the house. Make sure there's no more blood in the bathroom. Each movement of my muscles takes immense effort, but I can't show them what the house looks like. What I look like, behind closed doors where no one can see me. I'd shown Maya, and she'd left me.
They arrive all too quickly. I open the door, exchanging greetings and fake smiles. I keep my hand on my arm, as if my sleeve would tear off at any second and reveal the cuts. We go upstairs and sit on the small balcony. Then comes my next step towards my doom.
Logan pulls out an object that looks kind of like a vape, but different. He hits it, then passes it to James. James hits it then passing it to Cameron. Cameron hits it then passes it to Lucy. And after Lucy hits it, she extends it towards me. I give Logan a look that I hope is asking him what it is.
"It's a pen. Weed. Try it out," he beckons to it.
"I told you Logan, I don't want drugs," I say. I won't smoke it. I won't smoke it. I won't smoke it.
"But you should. It's just some weed. It's legal in a bunch of places. Can't be that bad. A complete escape from reality. It takes you to a different world," he casually tells me, as if talking about the weather rather than an illegal drug. We're in Texas, so other than being underage, all weed in general is illegal. If I take the pen, I'm committing a crime.
But I'm already a criminal. I drank alcohol underage. I hit a vape underage. I took the Valium. And what's wrong with that? The world is shitty. What's wrong with wanting to go to a new one? Wanting to escape? The reason I'm breaking the rules is because the word broke me.
I'm weak. I want an easy escape. I want this. And maybe I just want to break the rules in general. Feel in control of a life I've never had a choice in. Maybe doing drugs feels like a deserved insult to the world that's been breaking me.
Just as I had for all the other illegal substances I'd taken, I grab the pen and do it as fast as possible. If I'd hesitated or held it for a second, I might've came to my senses and stopped myself. But I needed this.
Three minutes later I was living in a different world. Happiness. So much happiness. Life is perfect. Why hadn't I done this earlier? The law can go to hell. I'm finally at peace. Can finally breathe despite everything. I feel like I can go up against the whole world and win. Can look Maya in the eye and walk away, just as she'd done to me. For once I'm the one in power. I control this earth.
The night is perfect. Just a bunch of teenagers getting high. Logan pulls out his vape and we hit that too. My mind was running free. And turns out that when you have drugs, life is pretty damn perfect. I didn't know that that peace was temporary. And when it faded, the world was even darker.