Six weeks of Roger sitting on my bedside table, judging me with his plastic, beady little eyes. Six weeks since I began my fall, and six weeks that I’ve continued to plummet into absolute nothingness. I tried to escape it, in the beginning. I spent the first three weeks getting obliterated with old friends, trying to numb the constant ache in my chest, but the gaping hole refused to be sealed with the familiar aid of alcohol. I tried to pretend, to smile when Spencer would pop into the apartment, sharing news about Dalton’s recovery, excitedly chattering about how rapidly he was healing, overjoyed and smiling from ear to ear when he finally took his first step. I tried to move on, as though I wasn’t completely enveloped in darkness, but each step forward was nothing more than me blindly trying to find my way back to where I used to be. But even the low place where I used to stand is unreachable for me now. It’s too far above me, the ground on which I took those steps no longer.
What do You think about Out Of Focus (Chosen Paths #2)?
