chapter eight: a gamble

☾ ☼ Sunny Wright

Sunday, September 27th, 2017

AS MUCH AS I TRIED TO IGNORE IT, AS MUCH AS I TRIED TO PRETEND EVERYTHING WAS FINE. I GREW SICKER BY THE DAY, DESPITE MY  STUBBORNNESS.

My nose bleeds became more prevalent, bleeding at any given hour of day, without warning. I used to be able to hide them, I'd carry tissues around, excusing myself when I felt them coming on, but now they happened so often, they were harder to hide. It wasn't just nose bleeds either, I was beginning to lose weight, I was already a fairly skinny girl, but now I was a bag of bones. I also noticed I bruised very easily now, if I bumped into an edge of a table, or even when Owen nudged me (which he did a lot), I'd develop gross purply bruises. I got terrible headaches too, so bad, the only thing I could do to cope was lay in a dark room, unmoving, until it blew over, they usually lasted long and loomed over me, like a dark rain cloud, making the days blend into one long nothingness.

I stared at my dripping wet, naked body and hated what I saw. I was a horrifying, lanky, scrawny and bruised...thing.

This body, my body that I had known for seventeen years had betrayed me for its last and final time, it's last cruel joke. At thirteen, when girls my age grew into their newfound breast and hips, I forgave my body, I forgave my body for being thin and more like a boys body than a girls, when I broke my arm at age eleven, after falling from Owen's maple tree, I forgave my body for its fragileness, for breaking on me, I forgave my body when it developed sun poisoning, during seventh grade summer camp, ruining my chances of ever having my first kiss with Anthony Beckham. And I would forgive my body one last time, for killing me.

I brush out the tangles in my wet hair, not too hard though, trying to avoid a headache and quickly get dressed, not wanting to look at my body for any longer than simply necessary.

I climb into bed, opening my laptop to stream Friends. Only Chandler Bing could get me out of my rut.Being sick wasn't all bad, no one ever expected anything of me anymore, I didn't have to do things I didn't want to do, and of course, every kids dream, no school.

No school sounds all fine and dandy until you're actually living it, it's fun the first few days, weeks even, but when you realize everyone's moved on without you, it hits home.

I throw a pillow over my head, I would not cry, I had no tears left to cry anyways, so I just laid there, pillow over my face, spiraling. Just when I think I'm about to lose my mind, I hear a ping at my window. I perk up, thinking I've completely lost my mind, until I hear the noise again, then again.

I reluctantly pull the curtain to my window open, surprised to see Owen looking up at me, shuffling from foot to foot, running a hand through his brown hair, his features unreadable in the dark. The boy has no idea, but he just saved me from myself.

I pull my window open, greeted by the cool early autumn wind. "Owen?" I ask, even though I know it's him, I was unsure of what else to say.

"Hey, sunshine.....can I come up?" He asks through a light boyish giggle, it's cute and makes me smile.

"Yes, I'll come unlock the back door, just be quiet, my mom is sleep," I say, shutting my window, as I tip toe down the stairs.

I can't help, but laugh when I see Owen's face, squished up against the patio door. He waves, eagerly when he sees me, and I open the door.

"Sunshine and daisies!" Owen calls loudly, throwing his long arms over me. I throw my hands over his mouth, shushing him.

"Owen, what the heck," I whisper yell at him, looking up at his tall figure, in the dark, I ignore the fact that he smells like the floor of a bar.

"Sorry," he loudly whispers, my hands still over his face. I roll my eyes, laughing as I lock the patio door back.

The both of us tip toe up the stairs, quiet and swift. When we reach my room, I shut the door behind us, turning off most of my lights, except for a dim one, on my nightstand.

Owen, lays sprawled on my bed, twirling strands of his long hair, giggling.

"You're drunk?" It's more of a question than a statement, I know he's drunk, but I ask anyways. I don't have much experience with intoxicated people, occasionally Mallory would drunk call me after too many sips of wine, but nothing like this, Owen was drunk off his ass.

"Yeah," he says. "So?"

I open and close my mouth, not sure what to say next. So instead I just stare at his bloodshot eyes. He looked tired and cuddly and suddenly a wave of motherly instinct washes over me, I pick up my throw blanket and placed it over him, he looked up at me from his place on the bed, with those chocolate eyes.

"Are you not laying down too?" The question was so innocent, he just wanted me to lay there with him, it's not like he asked to cuddle with me or anything, so why did I feel so weird?

"Yeah....I am," I say before crawling in beside him, I then turn the light on my nightstand off, leaving us in complete darkness. I didn't know why Owen was drunk, or why he was here with me, but I assumed he needed to be with someone, the way I needed to be with someone. Owen and I were more similar than I thought, and we needed each other more than I knew. We were both lonely.

"Have you ever been drunk, Sunny?" I hear him ask through the dark, I close my eyes, laying on my back as Owen faces me.

"No," I say, pulling the covers up. "I haven't done much of anything."

"What's it feel like?" I say after moments of silence. "Being drunk."

I hear him laugh and then shift beside me on the bed, he was so close, yet so far away. We both stayed on our respective sections, only his long legs brushing mine occasionally. I pretended not to notice.

"It feels like...everything's in slow motion, it feels like life's one big comedy," He pauses. "It feels all warm....cozy....dizzy."

"Does it always feel...that good?" I was intrigued, maybe I had been missing out, I certainly could use some warm and cozy, unfortunately, I can't drink now because of the large amount of medication, what blows is the meds don't even seem to be make me feel any better.

"No...sometimes it feels bad....real bad," he says lowly, his back is towards me. I wanted to reach out and stroke his hair. It looked soft. "Like you're just overwhelmed with emotions, drowning in them."

"So drinking is like a gamble.... it either feel good and makes you feel better or it doesn't and makes everything worse."

Owen laughs his drunk laugh, turning to face me again, my eyes have adjusted to the dark and I can see his silhouette. "It's exactly like that!" He says booping my nose, I shoo his arm away, laughing.

I say nothing, just exhale a breath, suddenly exhausted. Just as I'm about to doze off to sleep, I notice that Owen is wide awake, staring at the ceiling, as if he's deep in thought.

"So which is it right now?" I say breaking the soothing silence.

"Hmm?" He says, tugging a strand of my hair, facing me again. I playfully shove his arm, tugging a strand of his hair as well. And it was soft and fluffy just like I imagined.

"Is the alcohol making you feel better or worse?"

"Don't know yet," he says.

Shortly after, he falls asleep.

A/N
something short and sweet for you :)
Next chapter is in josie's pov, isn't that fun!
also i will post more frequently, want to get this story up and going again!