❥ prologue

Mila Monro

Saturday, December 5th 2016

I tug open the heavy framed door as I feel the air rush to my head. My mind empties and I tilt myself over the sink, placing my bloody hands on the basin.

This couldn't be happening. Not tonight.

A rush of vomit forces it's way up my throat and projects out my mouth, swishing around the bowl before slowly running down the drain.

I can't let this happen.

Dried vomit sucks tightly to the side of my face making my cheeks itch. I could smell it. The rich, pungent smell engulfing the room. I swallow the bile rising in my throat and almost vomit again just from the pure taste of it.

I need to think. I need to figure out what is happening.

My hear rate heightens as I continue to hear the booming music from just outside the door. I wasn't sure where Jake was but I needed to talk to him. To tell him everything.

He knows but I need to tell him.

Well firstly, I need to sort out the mess. The mess dripping from hands.

I abruptly spin the tap and feel the gushing hot water engulf my hands. The water stains red, washing the blood off my hands and swirling down the sink. The heat of the water burns my skin, making it flare a light pink colour.

Pain from my hands shoot up my arm causing them to flare with goosebumps, but I couldn't bring myself to turn the tap off.

Not until all the evidence is gone.

The lights in the bathroom flicker causing me to jump and quicken my breath but I know I just need to calm myself.

I'm okay. Nothing has happened. It's all okay.

I begin to feel faint. My mind can't focus and my legs start shaking.

Something has happened. Something has clearly happened.

My eyes flicker, and the room goes dark. The impact of the stone cold floor against my head sends my already spinning mind into a whirlwind. The room spins aggressively and I blink a couple of times to balance myself.

I need to get up and to get out.

It's the only way. I can sort this out another time. I am just in no state of mind to go around fixing my problems right now.

My shaking hand pushes off the cold ground and I slowly stumble towards the sink. I run my hands under the hot water. The red liquid running down the drain, finally ridding the blood from my skin.

I rub the water over my face, ridding the despair and I take three deep breaths.

One, two, three.

I can do this. Focus. I can do this.

All it takes is to walk to the door. Get out of this house. I can fix things in the morning. I can talk to Jake.

Get it sorted.

I can do it tomorrow. Tomorrow.

The word rushes through my mind, tomorrow, tomorrow, reassuring me that it'll be okay.

I just need to get out.

I hear a knock at the door causing me to jump again. It doesn't stop.

"Occupied," I yell, keeping my voice calm. As calm as I can in this moment.

"Fuck me," I hear a girl yell back from outside the door.

I just need to get out.

I take another deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I stare at my deep sunken eyes and my left eye surrounded by a dark blue bruise.

I lift my fingers up, placing them softly on the bruise, wincing in pain as I tenderly touch the soft skin around my eye.

It's bad.

My cheekbones soaked with the hot water I just spilled over my face. My hair scattered, my lips purple, my cheeks pale.

I close my eyes not wanting to look at myself anymore, I'm a disgrace. I turn around, my back facing the mirror and I focus.

Three more breaths.

I turn abruptly towards the door.

Three steps.

Three breaths.

Three minutes.

And then I'm out.

I'm gone.

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