Blackout

[adv] away from the correct path or direction; into error or morally questionable behavior[/center

He gave me three days. Three fucking days to get myself together, to do whatever I felt I needed to do. Three days of freedom. That was it.

Not knowing what to do, I ended up worry about clothes of all things. Everything I owned was at Seth’s apartment and there was no way I could go back there. But Pete just smirked, told me not to worry about it. It wasn’t much longer after that that I realized my belongings had appeared in the bedroom of the apartment.

Once clothes and my belongings were no longer an issue, I was unsure of how to go about the rest of my three days. I thought about visiting my parents, but there was no way I was going to be able to do a quick visit. My mother would be offended that I couldn’t stay longer and my father would remind me of what my behavior was doing to my mother. I couldn’t face that.

It was best now that I just maintain the distance I had created between us. I had made my bed, and now I had to lie in it.

I thought about going to Bree, but I didn’t think I could face her either. I had tried to tell her about my demon issue before and she had just laughed. There was no way I could go through with that again. I couldn’t face her and tell her problems she wouldn’t even believe, and that hurt.

She was my best friend. I wanted to tell her everything, and just have her believe me and know that I was struggling, that I didn’t think I could make it through this on my own. But what choice did I have?

In the end, I wound up at a church nearby. I had never been religious. I wasn’t even entirely sure I believed in God. But everything I thought I believed had been turned upside down when I found that demons existed. And if demons existed, surely there were angels, and maybe even a God.

I didn’t linger in the church though. I did something I had never done before though, I got down on my knees, and taking deep breaths of the musty air I bowed my head, eyes squeezed shut, and prayed. I prayed for forgiveness, for help, for a miracle, anything. I knew there was no help for me though. I was damned, there was no denying that.

When I returned to the apartment Pete was there, watching me as I moved around the rooms unsure of how to go about my life now. I could see it in his eyes that he knew where I had been and I was grateful that he didn’t laugh at me or make some smartass comment.

On my final day of freedom, I spent most of the day in bed, in and out of sleep. It was finally sinking in that my life was over. It wasn’t until it started to get dark that I realized I should end my last day of freedom like this: A pathetic heap, giving in easily.

I got out of bed, sucked up the last of my energy and called Bree. We didn’t have to talk. I didn’t need to try and convince her of the things going on in my life.

She answered on the fourth ring.

“Let’s get fucking wasted,” I said in greeting.

“Sophie?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you since the other night,” she sounded concerned. I ran a hand through my hair.

“I’m great,” I answered. “Now do you want to go out and party or not?”

“What about Mr. Grumpy-pants?”

“What?”

“Seth, what about Seth?” she asked. My shoulders slumped and my grip tightened on my phone. I had known what she was talking about but I had hoped this subject could be avoided.

“We’re not together anymore,” I finally answered, exhaling loudly. “And I don’t want to talk about it. Can we please just go get incredibly wrecked?”

It was a silent for a moment.

“Should I call Chloe, then?”

“Yes, please,” I responded.

“Wonderful,” Bree said. “Where are you staying anyway?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. I’ll just meet you over at Chloe’s in an hour or so.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

---

I was more messed up than I’d ever been. I was throwing back shots between flirting with strangers. Someone offered me drugs; I took them. I lost Bree and Chloe at some point, but I’m pretty sure they were mad at me and I didn’t care.

My head was spinning and the lights were flashing and I was laughing at nothing. I was wrapped around a stranger, lips pressed together, sloppy. Everything was sloppy.

I went home with someone, stumbling out of whatever club I had ended up at and falling into a bed that smelled unfamiliar, felt foreign. But I was gone, enjoying my last moments of freedom with a stranger of all people.

I woke up sometime early, the sun just starting to peek through a dirty window and the sounds of the city waking up.

My head pounded and swam. I was pretty sure I was still intoxicated, just less so than earlier. I sat up slowly and looked around me. I didn’t even know where I was. I didn’t bother looking at the man in the bed beside me—I just wanted to leave. I found my clothes scattered around the room and put them on, careful to not make too much noise. I combed my hair with my fingers and swiped under my eyes to try and clear away any remnants of my makeup. I’m sure I looked complete shit, but whatever. It was time to get this walk of shame over with.

I stopped at the guy’s fridge and pulled it open, hoping there was a bottle of water but all I found were some Chinese takeout containers and expired milk.

I sighed and headed to the street, hoping I’d at least be able to get a taxi. I really did not want to walk back to Pete’s place from wherever I was.

And just my luck, there was a taxi already parked outside, the driver leaning against the hood.

“Can you bring me back to my apartment?” I asked him. He looked at me carefully.

“Are you Sophie?” he asked, standing up straight.

“Uh, yeah? Do I know you?”

“A friend of yours sent me to bring you home.”

I felt my stomach drop, knowing immediately that Pete had sent the driver. He’d probably kept an eye on me all night. The driver opened the door for me and I slid in, leaning my head back and closing my eyes willing for the world to stop spinning and for my life to be normal again.

I fell asleep at some point during the ride and woke up when the car came to a sudden stop. I thanked the driver and climbed out of the car, trying to stay steady as I went into the building.

When I finally entered the apartment, I found Pete waiting for me, a bottle of water in hand. I took it from him, watching him warily.

“Have a fun night?” he asked. For a moment, I thought he was actually curious, but then he smirked.

“I hate you,” I said. His smile grew.

“You might want to change your attitude,” he said. “Cause you’re going to be stuck with me for a long time.”

I felt my stomach lurch, and I ran for the bathroom, falling on my knees in front of the toilet just in time to spill my guts.