Page 58 of Nevermore
And my mind is absolutely racing.
I can’t lose them again.
I just got them back and now Franc is going to take them from me, he’s going to take all of them away from me.
This cannot be happening.
I’m in love.
I have my family back.
I’m not living in a state of complete fear, my nightmares have decreased, I’ve had less panic attacks and they haven’t reached full blown status in a while. My life has done a complete one eighty in such a short amount of time, and now Franc is going to blow it wide open, leaving nothing but that festering wound that won’t ever heal.
I down the beer that was meant for Lucky or Pete as that little voice that’s been silent finally starts talking.
Who am I kidding?
Lucky doesn’t love me.
Neither of them do.
Maybe they did at one point but not now.
They love the music, love what we used to be, and that’s why Mark and Norm are around too, but none of them truly love me.
How could they?
I’m everything Franc says I am.
I’m worse.
I’m unwanted.
I’ve been used, abused, and thrown away.
I’m tainted and ruined.
It’s only a matter of time before I have a full blown panic attack or black out. What would Lucky and Pete, Norm and Mark think then? Or when I do something wrong with my meds ordiet and have another diabetic seizure? What happens when my problems become too much and they don’t want to deal with it anymore?
Franc is right.
I am a curse, and I will destroy them the same way I destroyed myself.
Oh god, Franc is probably telling them everything.
He knows what’s in my medical records, hell, he knows what’s in my legal ones, too.
Franc knowseverythingI don’t want Lucky or the boys to find out, everything I’ve spent years trying to hide. He’ll tell them everything and there won’t be any coming back from it this time.
Lightheaded and careening toward a complete nervous breakdown, I head to my pill box in the bathroom. I pop open the spot that has my anxiety meds in it and take out two doses before washing them down with my beer.
Probably not a good choice but if it fucks me up a little I’ll handle Pete and Lucky’s rejection somewhat easier.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and glance at all of the boys’s things scattered around my room.
At least they have a reason to come back up here. Maybe they’ll each let me kiss them one last time as they pack their shit.
Doubtful.
