Page 21 of Inevitable Destruction

DOMINIK

“Ghosts”—PRBLMS

The secondI peel my eyelids open; I instantly regret it. A groan tears from my throat, and I throw my arm over my face, turning away from the small beam of sunlight filtering through a gap in the curtain. My mouth throbs and feels as dry as the Sahara.

What the hell happened last night? I wrack my brain, but nothing comes to me—which isn’t much of a surprise. Sometimes it takes a while, and other times, it never comes. I knew those Hydros and vodka would fuck me up. And I can’t bring myself to care—not that I even would if I could.

The rest of my body still has the lingering effects of numbness. Everything but my head. And the throbbing in my mouth is what pulls me to my feet, desperate for water like a dying man. My feet drag as I stumble into the kitchen.

Pretty sure I wasn’t too far off on the dying man part.

I grab a glass from beside the sink and fill it to the brim with tap water. My hand shakes as I bring it to my lips, and the second the water touches my tongue, I turn ravenous. It’s not until I’m tipping the glass upside down that I not only realize it’s gone, but that I also register the clink of what sounds like metal on glass.

I pull the glass away from my face to examine it, but there’s nothing on it. Still confused but too tired to give a shit, I stagger to the bathroom. I brace my hands on the countertop and let my head fall between my shoulders. My hair falls in front of my eyes as I swallow the bitter old taste of alcohol that lingers on my tongue. I can feel the water sitting in my stomach, sloshing around, threatening and ready to come up my throat any second.

I run my tongue along the backs of my teeth, and that’s when I hear it again. The metal sound. I suck my tongue on instinct, and my eyes bulge. I shoot up and gape at myself in the mirror. Ignoring the pitch black circles under my eyes and the way my cheekbones jut out more than they should, I open my mouth and stick out my tongue.

A green ball in the middle of my tongue reflects back at me, bright and just… there. I fight to flick my tongue up, finding a black ball on the other side. My tongue is swollen. So much so, I can barely see the silver, metal bar running through the middle.

How the fuck did I get this?

I pinch my eyes closed and replay memories of last night—starting when I showed up to the party and Jay instantly shoved three Hydros in my hand along with a shot of Grey Goose—like I wasn’t already fucked up on Oxys. I took them anyway because I knew the Os would wear off soon, and if I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t really care about any of it.

I’m just trading one high for the other.

I drop my head once more, my energy nearly depleted. With every minute shift of my body, it feels as if my bones are rubbing together like sandpaper, and the tiny bits sawed off from the friction integrate into my bloodstream, slowly chiseling away at my nerves until I’m nothing but a mass of twitching, unrelenting pain.

I somehow manage to shove off the counter and stumble my way back to my room. Stopping in the doorway, I stare at my bed, and flashes of Essa and I together flit through my mind.

My nails dig into the soft flesh of my forearm as I scratch relentlessly, desperately. I’m feeling again. Remembering.

Sometimes, it’s bittersweet. Others, it’s agonizing. And any time remembering Essa has just become fucking painful.

Her pale green eyes are locked on the ceiling as her iPod plays the same song on a continuous loop. All she told me was that it’s called “Near” and from how often she plays it, it must mean something to her.

I can’t keep my eyes off of her as I watch her fingers twist together on her exposed stomach. She’s wearing my black Metallica T-shirt, and I’ve never seen someone look better. Her long black hair is piled high in a messy bun on the top of her head with long strands hanging down around the sides of her face.

I let my head hang between my shoulders, forcing my gaze to the floor. My heart thumps loudly in my chest, spiking my blood and sending it to places it shouldn’t be going.

She’s healing, I remind myself. Every time my fingers have been on her in the past has been when she’s initiated it. I can’t be the one to start anything. Even though my blood is itching—hell, my entire fucking body is itching to touch her.

Essa Monroe. Such an unexpected anomaly in my life.

Before I came across that flipped car early that morning, I was drowning inside of my own head. My urges were coming to a peak, and I know now, I was about to succumb. But I didn’t. Because of Essa. Because she saved my life as much as I saved hers.

My only regret was I wish I could have saved her sister, too.

“What are you doin’ over there?” The sound of her low and rough voice pulls my gaze from the floor. Our eyes lock, and my heart jumps inside of my chest.

Looking at her is like a hit to my heart. Nowhere near enough, but more than I need.

“Just watching you, baby girl.”

“Well stop it and come over here.” She untwists her fingers and pats the bed beside her. I push away from the doorframe and shuffle across the carpet to her. Her cold fingers grab onto my equally frigid ones, and she tugs me down. My hood falls from my head as she pushes me down onto the mattress and places her head across my chest without second thought. Her small arm wraps around my middle as she cuddles up to me, and I return the gesture.

We both lie together as the depressing song Essa has playing repeats once more. I itch to ask her the meaning, but I know she wouldn’t answer me anyway. She’s the most secretive person I have ever met, and the desire to know every single one of her secrets is always at the forefront of my mind.

I tighten my hold on her, willing her to stay here with me forever. To keep me whole as we heal each other. I know it’s selfish to want to keep her all to myself. But… who am I kidding? She doesn’t have anyone else either.

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