My Bloody Idiot

Brian swore it won’t take more than ten minutes, but when I realized I’ve been sitting in the car for at least a half an hour, I started to become suspicious. How long does it take to kill a person and steal a dog, for Christ sake?

I opened the glove compartment, finding Brian’s spare pack of Marlboro, instantly opening it up and kindly borrowing a cigarette, before my eyes fixed on the old issue of Revolver under his countless lighters and unpaid parking tickets.

Why the hell does he have a Revolver from four years ago? I opened it exactly at the middle. On my left there was an interview with Synyster Gates along with Zacky Vengeance and on the right, ironically, they had a small interview and a bigass picture of mine. I paged further to see a couple more pages dedicated to a few producers I had the pleasure of knowing and a couple of other musicians. The whole section had been put under a label – The making of music.

Hell, I didn’t even remember doing an interview all those years ago, simply because I didn’t do that much press back in the day. I still avoided it to the best of my capability.

Revolver Magazine had the honor of finally catching the unattainable, the glorious, the one and only love child of Jude Clarke (former drummer for Apostle Leviathan) and Henry Flame (front man for Burning Heathens) – Riley Vex herself.

Hard rock lovers of nineties had suspected Riley Vex to become the greatest musician conquering charts nobody had before, but sadly the prodigy Riley Vex and Lethal Injection was not the best combination. Nobody has spoken about the fact why Lethal Injection and Vex parted ways, but more than a year has passed since the public announcement of Vex leaving the band and Riley has finally agreed to have a little chat with us.

Q: What happened to the album, to the band, and more importantly what happened to you?
A: What can I say… We had too great ambitions which we couldn’t quite deliver at the time. I was both the singer and the co-producer of the band and mixing a record of sort was wrong from the very get go, but we were cocky and we thought that everything we would put out would go platinum. Thank God that didn’t happen. The album was a complete nightmare. It was overproduced, my vocals were tasteless… It sounded like I was bored and I was singing just because I was in for the money, which wasn’t the case.
Q: Why did you walk away? You could’ve tried again.
A: Here’s the thing. I wasn’t right for Lethal Injection and Lethal Injection wasn’t right for me. They wanted me only to bring them exposure because of my roots. I get it now. I didn’t walk away, they politely asked me to leave the band. At first I was mad, but now I realize that probably was the best thing to happen to me. We were four completely different people, with different ambitions and goals in life and them kicking me out came as a blessing in disguise. I walked away the scene and now I’m only producing.

Okay, that’s about enough reading about myself for one evening. Man… I sounded like a complete asshole, no wonder why those guys wanted nothing to do with me. But… not going to lie, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true in that interview.

I threw the magazine back in the glove compartment, averting my gaze towards the big house standing it’s own right outside the window. Just by looking at the building, it was clear Brian hadn’t been struggling with financial issues these last years. What was it worth? Five, six million? Here’s the thing, I’ve had a period in my life when I didn’t have two dimes to rub together, so this luxury Brian was living in to me felt completely outrageous. Even if I would have that kind of financial background, I would’ve never purchased a house with nine bedrooms and eleven bathrooms, not saying I knew the planning of his house or anything… It simply seemed useless – two people living in a house where they used at best five percent of the whole area.

Finally I lit up the cigarette right after I had rolled down the window. Smoking on an empty stomach wasn’t quite the best idea, but hey, I had to do something while I was sitting here, right?

The big double doors opened to reveal Brian marching down the driveway with a white fur ball stuffed between his side and arm. A Maltese? Seriously? I frowned seeing a woman in a long summer dress rushing after him.

“They’re fighting over that rat? …really?” I whispered to myself, letting my arm linger over the door right as I blew out a cloud of smoke. I mean… what happened to dogs being dogs? I’d imagine him owning a Doberman, Pitbull, hell even a German Shepard, but… okay. Whatever floats his boat.

“Give me back my dog, Brian!” I heard her scream and right at that moment I wished to be anywhere, but here. I wasn’t above hijacking this ride just to get away from the drama. “You fucking piece of shit, you have no right!”

Please, give her back the dog… I wasn’t what you would consider a dog person to be. I strongly believed dogs were about the stupidest animals to live on this bloody planet. They were animals for pete’s sake, men shouldn’t be able to train a fucking animal. Wolf type dogs – I liked. Huskies, German Shepherds, Alaskan Malamutes… They still had their bestiality, but that fluffy rat Brian was carrying? That was no fucking dog. Jameson will tear that toy dog apart. I mean, that Siamese was a beast and you had to earn his trust, if a burglar came crashing into the Clarke estate, he’d claw his eyes out, and what would this fluff ball do? Waggle it’s tail and sing a fucking serenade.

Suddenly the dog appeared at my lap, making me lean as far as I could in my seat as it wiggled it’s tail around and looked at me with it’s dark brown eyes. “The fuck you’re looking at?” I mused, taking a deep drag from the cigarette, while Brian was fighting off his soon to be ex-wife.

“Pinkly is as much mine as she is yours!” She yelled, which was the main reason I looked at them. I’d seen that face somewhere. She seemed really familiar. Bloody Christ… He had married his sidechick! “You can’t take her away from me!” Well… girl, it looked like he could.

“Should’ve thought about it before you sold off my guns,” He hissed, going around the front of the car and quickly sliding in the driver’s seat. The dog just kept staring at me, unamused by the amount of bullshit going on outside. Oh come on, the window’s open, just jump…

“You’ll hear from my lawyer!” She shouted as soon as Brian started up the engine and sped off.

“So what else is new,” He mused, before the house disappeared from the view and so did his wife. I took one last drag and kicked the cigarette butt out the window, before closing it. You had one fucking chance, dog. Now you’re gonna die, ‘cause Jameson doesn’t play nice.

I looked up at Brian and just then I noticed his haircut. “You’re back to being Sonic the Hedgehog?”

“What?” It appeared I had disrupted some important train of thought. He looked at me with a an angry frown.

“Your hair,” My hand went to touch the sides. I had never understood what kind of determination it took to get his hair up like that. My best guess was a ton load of hair glue, hairspray and a drop of leprechaun cum for the good luck. “You’re back to the spiky thing…”

“Yeah,” He sighed and his glare disappeared. Instead a smile pulled at his lips. “I guess so.”

“You know… All those years back, this thing--” I pointed to his hair, noticing the dog slowly falling asleep in my lap, “--was the reason I regretted dumping you.”

“My hair?” He chuckled amusedly as he shot me a short look.

“You used to be really hot, dude.” I laughed, remembering seeing him at Long Beach. The eyeliner, the tan, the countless nights of exercise riding industry groupies… Hell, at one point during Scream I wanted to kill each and every one of those girls shaking their asses up on the stage that night. I knew a massive fucking was going to take place right after the show.

“Used to?” His eyebrows shot up. “I’m not hot anymore?”

“Sorry to say – your days have passed.” I shrugged, returning my gaze to the road ahead of us. “You start to look a lot like your father…”

“My dad doesn’t look a day over forty!” He argued. “It’s a compliment that I look like him…”

“Yeah, but you’re thirty…”

He leaned over to look at himself in the rear-view mirror. “I look fine,” he snapped back.

I snickered seeing how riled up he got over his appearance. I knew the dude for a quite some time and it was no secret that he had proudly worn the titles – eternal stud; sex god – but sadly, even he aged. You can be all those things only for so long…

He shot me a glare, “You just wanted to get a rise out of me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, holding back a laugh as I nodded. “God, you’re so easy…”

“Why do you always do this?” Always? What was he talking about? I’ve been away for quite some time, meaning – I was allowed to make fun of him. “I’ve never picked on you for your...” It seemed he was struggling with finding a single thing that would affect me in any way. Frankly? I was at peace with my body, so there wasn’t a single thing I worried about in my appearance.

“Go on,” I chuckled.

“Your… Your pink hair! There… I said it.” He blurted out as he turned on the street where my house was.

“My pink hair?” I questioned amused. “What’s wrong with my pink hair?”

“It’s the way you wear it…”

“What about it?” I chuckled.

The car stopped in the driveway and he reached to turn off the engine. A corner of his mouth raised in a smirk, “It makes me wanna do things to you.”

“Oh yeah?” I grinned. He turned to face me as he moved his face closer.

“Yeah…” he breathed, his lips being just inches from mine.

“That’s cool man, you can start by making us dinner. I’m starving.” I chuckled seeing his face drop as I picked up his sleeping dog and placed in his lap, getting out of the car myself.

Just as I walked up the driveway I remembered about my bloody car. Still at the parking lot of the studio. Looks like I’m walking to work tomorrow.

________

Brian had gone out to take care of some stuff and said to be back in a couple of hours. Did I have to mention the term ‘a couple hours’ varied based on the state of intoxication he was in? It wouldn’t have bothered me if I knew when he’s going to be back, since I strongly hated to be alone.

I knew my serotonin levels were way below norm, meaning I was partying it up with my depression. The illness was not something you could get used to and this is coming from someone, who has had it for years.

Such a basic thing as making appointments for my mum and searching all the possible treatments for her cancer shoved me in a sobbing hysteria more times than I liked to admit. Although, this time it wasn’t quite as bad. There was this one time about five years ago where I had cried literally for six hours straight – my eyes were so swollen that when looking down on my feet, my cheeks and my swollen eyelids completely blocked the view.

It was this never ending cycle of extremely good days and then the extremely bad ones. Never in between. You think I liked being this miserable? I’d give anything to be the bubbly, cheerful girl with not a single worry in the world. I came off as a bitch in five times out of four, and although I will take credit for some of them, knowing my ‘awesome’ personality, mostly… I was not to blame for how I responded to well… people in general. I was very sensitive towards bullshit, which was the main reason why I had so few friends.

When I was eighteen or so, I had loads of people, who were willing to be my ‘friends’ simply because they wanted something out of me and without a doubt wouldn’t return the favor when I was in need. Now I had loads of acquaintances and a handful of people who I could ring up when I was feeling really down. Like now.

I picked up my phone, scrolling through my contacts, before I found Saint’s number. She picked up after a couple beeps, a cough coming as a welcome, “H-hello?”

“Were you… sleeping?” I frowned as I looked down on my wristwatch. 9:34 PM. A bit early to have her bed voice on.

She coughed a couple times, “Yea—“ It seemed she blew her nose, before she continued, “I’m fucking sick, dude… Thank god Matt’s out or else I’d probably kill him, that’s how sick I am…”

So I had been right. The goons were out drinking. Taking care of stuff… yeah… I could only roll my eyes on the phrase. “Well, then drink tea or something… You have some pills or should I bring some over?”

“I have Jagermeister so I’m gonna be fine… Just… give me a day or two,” She snorted, “But… did you want to come over or something?”

I smiled in to the conversation, “Not anymore.” There’s no way I’m going to risk catching whatever she had. I had my fair share of problems already as it was, there was no need to sugar coat the whole situation with a sprinkle of laryngitis. A heavy sigh rolled over my lips, before I continued, bracing my elbow on the kitchen island and rubbing my forehead, “I’m just feeling really down, dude…”

“Because of Jude?” She questioned.

“I don’t know…” My hand brushed through my wavy hair, “It could be the trigger. I just… basically I really hate my life.”

“What are you talking about? You have a great life…”

I rolled my eyes, “Seems like it, right?” I took a deep breath, before I continued, “I’m living with my mum, who’s slowly dying by the way, I have to take care of the label while she’s gone, Brian’s dog keeps shitting in the house and I’ve lost all interest in the things I love.”

“Okay, well—“ cough, cough, snort, “look, that’s one side of the story. The depression’s side.” What was that ungodly sound? Was she eating Cheetos? “Here’s my take on things. The brighter one. You’re an incredibly successful musician slash record producer, you have a loving and slightly insane mom, who’s gonna be okay by the way. There’s a guy, who’s ready to do anything for you, which means he’ll take care of his dog’s shit. Just… take your meds, dude. You know it will get better if you just pop those pills…”

Somewhere in deepest corner of my mind I knew she had a point, but with all the depression all I wanted to do was to say ‘go fuck yourself, Saint.’ She had no idea what I was going through and I had to take a deep breath just to keep myself from breaking down. She was right, tho. Others had it way worse than me so I had no right to be a crybaby over living in a million dollar house and earning a five digit number. Money didn’t equal happiness, tho. “Thanks, Saint… for everything.”

“De nada,” She chuckled, “Just go and hit a blunt or pop some Xanax and you’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“I will, see you soon.” I said as I hung up.

“I’m home,” Brian’s voice sounded from the foyer as the door closed with a thud. Just as I was about to hop off the bar stool, I felt like somebody had hit me in the head with a baseball bat, making my insides turn. I was a second away from vomiting all over the kitchen island, so the basic instinct was to get off the stool and try to get the Olympic record in running to the bathroom. As soon as I felt my feet touching the cool tiles, my legs gave in and I went lights out as my head hit the floor.

“Fuck…” the word rolled over my lips as I sunk into the darkness.

This… This was not like fainting. I was out cold, but my brain hadn’t shut off completely. I was trapped inside my head and I was suffocating. If this was me dying, then, man… can I tell you dying is not something I’d want to do ever again. I was paralyzed and inside my head I was screaming, scared shitless ‘cause I couldn’t breathe. I had fainted before and I knew straight away this was not the case. Fainting was peaceful, like falling asleep for a short while, but now… Now I was in pure agony.

Slowly I came back to my senses, the scream inside my head turned to an obnoxious ringing in my ears as I desperately tried my best to start breathing. Only at the moment when my lunges stopped functioning, I realized how lucky the mankind was not having to worry about the motor functions of the body.

“She’s not breathing, we need a fucking ambulance right now!” I heard the angry shouting somewhere in the back as I slowly opened my heavy eyelids, feeling completely drained.

A dark figure was crouching in front of me, “Riles, baby, stay with me,” A concerned voice begged. Too bad that was not on today’s agenda. I was too weak to keep my eyes open which resulted in me passing out again.

The next time I returned on the land of living, I was awoken by an annoying beeping right next to me. The fierce smell of bleach hit my nose, leaving no doubt where exactly I was. Hell. Or in other words – a hospital.

A plastic tube was stretching across my face, bringing the oxygen to my lunges. My eyes opened and I saw Brian there… Sitting next to the hospital bed, looking like a ghost, while he frantically texted someone.

“I.. I hope you didn’t call my mum…” My voice was raspy and somehow still felt really distant. Come on, Riles, snap out of it.

“It’s your lucky day,” He said with a stern look, no glimpse of a smile, “her phone is turned off.”

“Good.” I whispered, closing my eyes. My head was spinning and I figured it would be for the best to keep my eyes open to avoid leaving the supper all over the freshly bleached hospital floor, “What happened?”

“You went all pale and passed out as soon as me and Matt got through the door,” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, “The docs said you had a mini-stroke. And a seizure.”

I made my best effort to frown as I looked at him, trying to keep my heavy eyelids from falling over my eyes, “what’s a… a mini-stroke?”

“It’s a temporary lack of blood flow to the one side of the brain… Well at least that’s what I understood from the doc.” Well… that didn’t sound that bad, I guess. “If you don’t take care of yourself, next time it will be a full blown stroke.”

“What do you mean? I take care of myself.” I sleep my good share of eight hours, I eat at least once a day, which, mind you, is a lot for me and I hardly ever go wild with liquor. Fine, maybe the latter was a lie. Lately I’ve been quite an often guest at the liquor scene.

“Saint called me and told about your depression…” He started, taking my hand, “Riley… it can’t go on like this…”

“I’m fine, Brian…” I would’ve waved him off, but I felt too weak to even raise my arm.

“Yeah, now you feel fine, ‘cause you’re fucking drugged beyond my understanding…” He sighed, rubbing his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling okay? I would’ve never left.” He leaned closer and I kid you not I could feel the rum-coke in his breath.

“You were away for two hours…” I frowned. What was he talking about? If this happened – it’s because it was supposed to happen. Him being around wouldn’t have changed a thing. “I was kinda okay when you left.”

“Gates, they had only—“ My head turned to Matt, who was carrying two cups of what I supposed to be coffee. He came to an abrupt stop, when he noticed I was awake. “—black coffee… Thank god you're up, Vex…” He sighed in relief as he came closer, handing one of the cups to Brian, “You have some talent for scaring the absolute shit out of people…”

“Thanks, I try,” I smiled silly as I tried my best to push myself upwards. Just then I noticed those bluish curtains separating me from the other patients. So they hadn’t even given me a proper room? I guess I wasn’t that sick. My eyes lowered over my tank top and the black leggings. “So I guess I’m all okay to leave?”

Brian sent me a long and disapproving look. Come on, man, there’s not a single person, who enjoys staying at this hell hole. “We still have to wait for your blood results…”

“How are you feeling?” Matt asked, taking a sip from his own cup, “For reals, Riley, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” a bit dizzy, but I really felt fine. I really wanted to find out what kind of drug had they injected me with to get me to be this relaxed. “Can one of you guys go and get the doctor?”

“You’re really thinking about leaving?” Matt deadpanned, staring at me as if he was doubting my mental state. “Gates, man, say something…”

“Go get the doc, Shads,” He sighed, not even looking at Matt’s shocked face.

“I love you both and all that, but this is a fucking stupid move,” He said as he angrily marched out of the room.

“Stop being mad, it doesn’t suit you,” I spoke quietly, getting his attention.

“I’m not mad.” He replied simply, shifting in the chair, “I’m bitter… I’m bitter and disappointed. It’s one of my charms,” He pushed a second long make-believe smile on his lips.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t know what that word means… or how to count.”

“Clarke, I don’t think I can do witty today,” He looked genuinely tired and I felt so sorry for being to blame for all of this. His phone went off and with a deep breath he managed to pull it out of his jacket. “It’s Jude.” He explained, before he put the phone to his ear, “Hey, how’s New York?”

My face went blank, before I started in an angry whisper, “If you tell her, so help me god, Brian…”

Brian’s browns fixed on me in an unimpressed glare as he pushed himself up from the chair and went to leave the room, “No, everything’s fine. We were just wondering how’s things with you…”

Just as Brian left, Matt returned with a tall man. Even tho he looked genuinely tired, he tried his best to push a pleasant smile on his age kissed face. “Good to finally meet you, Riley. I’m Doctor Jake Woodrow, how are we feeling?” He moved closer, taking out a small pen like flashlight from his pocket, “follow the light with your eyes.”

“I’m a bit dizzy, but all in all I feel good,” I replied squinting and jerking my head aside instantly as he closed in with the flashlight.

“Okay, I see a bit sensitiveness to the light… That can happen knowing your condition. It will go away with time. Follow my finger.” He ordered and I did my best to listen to him. Suddenly his fingers were pressing on the each side of my forehead. “Is the pressure even or you feel I’m pressing harder at one of the sides?”

“Harder here,” I pointed my finger up to the left side of my face.

“Okay. Hold out your arms for me,” He frowned watching me closely, “and now smile me a big smile.” I shot him my best smile, not really seeing the point in all of this. I mean, I was good right. It was nothing major.

“How is she, doc?” Matt was nervously biting on his knuckle.

“Seems fine to me.” He shrugged, picking out some papers from the end of the bed and writing something down. “Blood results came back good, we didn’t see any anomalies there, the CT scan showed us it was in fact a Transient Ischemic Attack, which caused they seizure, but I’m sure your friend already told you that, miss Clarke,” The doctor showed me his pearly whites as he put all the paperwork away, bracing himself on the frame of the bed. “I spoke to my colleagues and we believe that this is the result of living in a constant stress. My colleague, doctor Sabo treats your mother, so we also did the CA 125 blood test, which came clean, so no worries there.”

“So you thought that I had cancer?” I frowned greatly.

“That was a possibility, but we truly think it’s linked with your depression and with everything that’s going on lately. I would advise to go and see a psychiatrist to prescribe you some light anti-depressants to give you a slight boost, okay?” He smiled, patting my leg.

“Okay.”

“Well then, you’re free to go, a nurse will come and take you off from these dreadful machines and all you’ve got to do is fill the paperwork.”

“Umm… Doc?”

“Yes?”

“Is doctor Sabo working tonight?”

“Yeah, fifth floor – oncology unit.”

Brian’s POV

She was gonna be the death of me. The picture of her passed out on the floor was still engraved in my brain. If I didn’t have grey hair two months ago, then I can assure you I will by the end of this month.

I had just gotten off the phone, assuring to Jude that everything was fine and we were just wondering how she was doing… basically just lying straight to her face. This whole family was fucked and I couldn’t believe I was really going through with all of this, when I could’ve simply stepped away. Could’ve I? Really?

I downed the bitter coffee, throwing out the cup in the trash bin on my way back to Riley’s room. If I had known this was outta happen, I would’ve shotgunned that Bacardi bottle singlehandedly before heading home, knowing I didn’t even drink rum.

When I walked back in the room, I thought I was going crazy. She was gone. And so was Matt. For a moment I considered the possibility of walking in a different room, but no… this was the right one. I was certain of it. I checked my phone to see if I had any text from Matt, but no. Of fucking course.

My jaw clenched and the knuckles on my fists turned white as I rushed out of the room and headed straight to the main desk. One of the nurses raised her eyes to me and either the realization of who I was hit her hard or maybe it was simply her bestial urge to spread her fucking legs for me – either way, I didn’t have time for this shit. She boosted her arms on the counter, pushing up her boobs with the motion.

“What can I do for you?” She bit down on her lower lip. Did I have to remind her that she was working in a fucking hospital? Be professional, goddammit.

“The girl with the pink hair… Where did she go?” I barked impatiently.

“Clarke?” A slightly older nurse to the right of her spoke, checking the paperwork.

“That’s the one.” My eyes fixed on her, obviously irritating tits here.

“She checked herself out and I believe she went to see doctor Sabo.” The woman looked at me over her glasses, “Fifth floor.”

“Thanks,” I patted the counter, storming off to the elevator.

“Don’t mention it,” I heard her sigh as I rushed down the hallway, stopping only to call the elevator. The door opened with a ding. I got in with one single thought – I’m gonna murder the chick. Was it that hard to wait for me or simply send me a text saying where she was going so I wouldn’t go out of my mind worrying about her? Was that mission im-fucking-possible for her?

The elevator stopped. The door slid open and I saw Riley standing with a kid holding her hand, talking to what I expected to be doctor Sabo – a woman in her late thirties, with shoulder length jet black hair and the kindest smile I’ve ever seen. Who was the bold kid – the question was left hanging. Matt was standing behind them both, listening carefully to whatever she told them.

“So there’s no way of helping all these kids?” Matt looked genuinely confused.

“I’m afraid we’re doing everything we can,” Doctor spoke, “The funding is as big as it is and, I’m afraid we can’t do all the chemo’s and radiation therapies without the money. The situation is really grave. The insurance of some of these patients cover only the expenses of some antibiotics and nothing more.”

The kid which I supposed to be a girl, at least judging by the pink dress, spoon around, with a big smile on her face and hid behind Riley’s leg as soon as she saw me approaching. “What if we throw a fundraiser?” Riley suggested, concentrating only on the woman in front of her. She suddenly turned to look at Matt, “I could divert fifty percent of what would be my album income to funding treatment for cancer.”

“We could do a couple shows,” Matt spoke thoughtfully. Just then I truly realized what they were talking about. My heart just broke, realizing Riley is just out of hospital bed herself, but she already is thinking about others. “Raise a reasonable amount, what do you think, Gates?”

Suddenly they all turned to look at me. “That’s not a bad idea.” I agreed, feeling all my anger deflating.

“We all would appreciate it dearly,” The doc said. “If you have any questions, about anything, Riley, call me or come by. I think Hailey would be happy to see you, wouldn’t you, Hailes,” the doc smiled as she picked up the girl.

“Yup,” She nodded, wrapping her tiny hand around doc’s neck. This thing… It was devastating. The girl was how old exactly and she was fighting for her dear life… Life sometimes didn’t seem very fair.

“Okay, say bye-bye, we need to get you to bed finally,” The doctor chuckled, “Bye guys.”

“Bye-bye!” The tiny hand waved as they walked away.

“Before you say anything, Brian Haner, I needed to do this,” Riley looked at me sternly.

“I’m not saying anything,” My hand rested on my chest, “I’m just starting to get a bit worried. You just had a stroke and you’re planning a fundraiser…”

“A mini-stroke, mind you,” She said, taking my hand in hers. Well, this was a first.

“It’s for the kids, Gates,” Matt spoke as we all went to the elevator.

“And for other people who can’t afford the treatment, Matt,” She sent him a look.

“Okay, okay,” Matt chuckled, raising his hands in defense, “sorry.”

“So we’re gonna do a tour?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“We could hit some of the major cities, get some other bands to join us, debut Riles new record.” Matt spoke thoughtfully as the doors closed in front of us.

“Meaning I have to make a record…” She sighed, leaning against my side and resting her head against my shoulder. My arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“Let’s just take a slow approach, okay?” I suggested, “she was unconscious in a hospital bed just now. Let’s not fucking rush.”

Notes

So this turned out a lot longer than expected. And heavier, but hear me out, because I have a reason for it. So... I don't know if you guys know, but I'm been struggling with depression for many years now and the part with the hospital and her passing out, actually happened to me I believe two or three years ago, which caused a major downward spiral in my life with all the panic attacks and my second best friend- anxiety disorder. But I'm better now, at least I think so... What I wanted to say with all of this is to never lose hope and faith, which is also the thought I try to mirror in this story, because at some point it does in fact get better no matter how shitty everything appears to be.

Stay strong. ^^