It was going to take everything around me with it, like a tornado spinning around in circles. No one stood a chance, especially me. It elicited feelings I never thought would be possible, emotions that one should never have to experience.
I felt every loss of breath. It cluttered my mind willing me to keep going, to push through. I couldn’t keep up with the agony that grasped onto me like a fucking vice. Taking me deeper under the ground where there was no one, but… me.
Alone.
Forever destined to be alone.
Life was cruel like that.
I hated him…
I hated myself.
I crept up off the floor, my skin itching and my mind burning. My reflection in the mirror made me sick.
My misery.
My hand caught my mouth as I ran into the bathroom, hurling my head over to the toilet. I heaved over and over again.
Getting rid of the toxic poison inside of me. Our love.
I spit out the rest of it, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. I rinsed my mouth out with water and fervently shook my head side-to-side, trying to block out the last several hours of my life.
His lies.
His touch.
My memories.
Austin.
They were forever seared in my soul. It was now a piece of me, something that I would never be able to detach myself from. I screamed out my frustration, unleashing the rage, the wrath I no longer had any control over. It pounded into me as furiously as the truth did minutes ago. I walked out of the bathroom, slowly walking toward our bedroom. Remembering how many times he made love to me when he was high. When he was fucked up, fucking me. Lying to me, saying he wasn’t using. That he loved me. That I was his girl.
His Daisy.
I took one last look around the room before I grabbed my suitcase from the closet and threw it on the bed. Grabbing everything I could from my drawers. I scurried around the closet, my feet stomping everywhere I stepped, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. I packed everything I could find not caring what it was. My eyes blurred with tears every time I shoved a piece of me into my bag. My body twisted with the desire to fall apart. To crumble to pieces right then and there.
“I fucking hate you! I fucking hate you so much!” I yelled, talking to myself.
I repeated it over and over again to let it sink into my pores, wanting it to become a part of me. To fuel my determination to leave him and not look back. I grabbed a few things from the bathroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face. I hurried, rushing as fast as I could to get my shit together and leave. Praying that I could get the hell out of there before he got back. I didn’t want to hear his lies. His excuses. His manipulations.
Luring me into his spider web of deceit.
I packed enough things to get me through the next few days, not knowing where the fuck I was going. Just knowing that I needed to get out of there. I zipped the suitcase and grabbed it off the bed, dashing out of the bedroom that I made out of nothing but love and devotion.
For him.
My heart pounded, and my ears rang as I raced down the stairs with my suitcase in tow. Rounding the corner so fast I almost tripped over my own two feet, catching myself on the wall before I fell over. I made it another ten steps before hearing the front door click, seeing the knob turn over, all playing out in slow motion in front of me. Stopping me dead in my tracks.
We locked eyes for only a few seconds when he opened the door. His drug-induced gaze going from my face to the suitcase I was firmly holding. The realization hitting him like a ton of fucking bricks.
We both heard it loud and clear.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He closed the door behind him. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he snapped, stepping toward me.
Causing me to take a step back.
He wavered, standing still.
“Daisy…” he coaxed, still peering back and forth between my face and the suitcase I was holding so fucking hard to the point of pain.
“I love you,” he said with so much sincerity in his tone.
That it nearly killed me to hear him say it.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I roared, trying to side step him to no avail.
“Not a chance in fucking Hell, Briggs. Let’s talk, okay?” He put his arms out blocking my escape. “Talk to me—”
“Oh! Now you want to talk! Now that you’re high, Austin! Now that you chose your drugs over me—”
“I didn't choose drugs over you. I would never do that and you fucking know it! I was seconds from having a goddamn seizure up there,” he spewed, roughly jabbing his finger in the direction of the bedroom. “I was fucking dying! You know what withdrawal is! You have witnessed it first hand! The last thing I wanted was to have you see me like that again! I left so you wouldn’t have to—”