Subconscious AU pt 2

It took me so long to recover from my loss- 

Anyways.

—~+~—

...Sllip sllip sllip

—~+~—

Ok maybe taking more pills than necessary wasn't a good idea. 

I'm dizzy and throwing up a lot. 

A shame, I was supposed to be hanging out with friends today. 

After throwing up the fifth time today I got back in bed to look at my phone. 

Too scared to eat anything that will come right back up, I didn't eat at all yet. By now it's well into the evening. 

Moving on to my phone, I open the familiar text conversation. A wall of unanswered daily texts stare back at me. 

I type something up quickly. 

"How's everything been? Are you doing ok?"

"That sounds fucking stupid..." I mumbled before discarding the whole message.

"How've you been? Everything ok?" 

"That's literally the same thing just more casual." I groan, flipping onto my stomach. 

"You ok? I've missed you <3"

"That's teetering on the edge of desperate." I delete the heart before scrapping the entire thing.

"Let me know when you're free to catch up." 

"Half sure I've said that before but it'll do..." I ponder it from a minute before deleting this as well.

"Miss you." 

I finally decide on that and hit send before I have to hold down the x again. 

When I see the sickly green that holds background to my text, my heart drops. 

"Officially blocked. Nice." 

Shutting off my phone, I turn over and stare at my wall to think. My stomach hurts again and I assume I'm gonna throw up. Again. This time not because of those stupid pills. I allow the tears to fall freely.

Fuck Halloween, fuck hallucinations, fuck dreams, fuck the voice, fuck Artemis, fuck those stupid pills, fuck throwing up all over the place. Fuck all of it. I can't handle it anymore. I'm going to loose every inch of sanity I had left.

...Esuac eht ma I rof

.Gnitaehc eb dluow taht ,sala

...Dlihc teews yb niap ruoy lla yawa ekat dluoc I hsiw I woh

—~+~—

Waking up with the worst headache is worse than the throwing up.

Loud sounds already hurt, now I this damn pounding in my head won't let me get up. 

I hate living in the city.

Crying myself to sleep then sleeping for 12 hours isn't the best for headaches either.

Afraid to take any more medication, I just lay in bed and read a random book on my phone.

The main characters eyes are orange and the main love interest has yellow hair. 

It's pretty cringe if I'm being honest and very much so straight, so I use my imagination to make it better.

I literally could've been a writer, why did I choose sadness and misery for myself?

̷...̷E̷s̷o̷p̷p̷u̷s̷ ̷I̷ ̷t̷n̷a̷w̷ ̷e̷w̷ ̷t̷a̷h̷w̷ ̷t̷e̷g̷ ̷s̷y̷a̷w̷l̷a̷ ̷t̷'̷n̷a̷c̷ ̷e̷w̷ ̷t̷u̷b̷

̷...̷E̷s̷r̷u̷o̷c̷ ̷f̷o̷ ̷h̷t̷a̷e̷d̷ ̷s̷r̷e̷h̷t̷a̷f̷ ̷s̷i̷h̷ ̷r̷e̷t̷f̷a̷

̷...̷N̷o̷s̷ ̷y̷m̷ ̷r̷o̷f̷ ̷r̷e̷t̷t̷e̷b̷ ̷d̷e̷t̷n̷a̷w̷ ̷y̷l̷u̷r̷t̷ ̷i̷

—~+~—

After dragging myself out of bed to eat, I notice the party going on outside my window. 

Looking down at the block party, I see children and adults enjoying themselves. Some of them are my neighbors that I barely know. 

I think they all see me as the depressed guy living in 4b that has barely any life to live. 

On second glance, party seems 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̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇i̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇o̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇n̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶̶̶̷̶̶̷̶̷̶̷̶̶̷̶͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇͇ Halloween themed. 

I take a deep breath as I close the curtains, the room looking increasingly more emo without the sunlight. 

Grabbing some uncooked macaroni, I sit down on the couch that clearly needed to be replaced or at least cleaned. 

The tv screen lights up with some cartoon. 

Looking at my house, I'm really living up to the depressed part of my apartment title. 

Trash everywhere, certain things collecting dust, clothes hanging from random pieces of furniture, the overflowing garbage can. My power box is sparking, I've been meaning to call the landlord about it.

How did everything get to this point... 

Work tomorrow. Can't be late. Again...

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