Work Text:
TG: jane?
TG: jaaaaney
TG: janey cmon pls tlel me youre not aslep alrdy
TG: its only liiiiiiiike
TG: one am
TG: thts not 2 early
TG: pls
Fittingly enough, it was nighttime. The room was shrouded in a darkness broken only by the dim electronic light, propped up on a desk. Illuminating the blonde who hugged her legs and stared vacantly through the screen. The last few hours had been plagued by shuddering breaths, too many tears, and frustrated groaning. Only lacking what she’d actually wanted to hear. The soft ringing of reassurances from a close friend.
This wasn't fair. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She wasn't supposed to be breaking down like this, sobbing in her bedroom like she was a little kid, scared of the dark, all over again. Only the so-called monsters under her bed were whispers in her ears. She'd rather face whatever demon's could be conjured up then get trapped in the dark with her own thoughts.
Like a spoiled child denied their way, she kept repeating her mantra over and over again. It's not fair, It's not fair, It's not fair, It's not fair. She was supposed to be okay, she wasn't supposed to get like this anymore. She had her friends, she was supposed to be able to handle this now. She had been managing it. Without the help of her precious vices, but with the help of a shoulder to laugh and cry on. Having the knowledge that she wasn’t utterly alone in the world, because someone would answer and the silence would be broken.
But tonight was another night, one where she was alone again. Left in the darkness with no sign of light beyond the one illuminating her failures, reaching for another bottle to drown that whispering ghost that chided her for not being good enough, scolded her dreams, laughed at her tears. With words ringing in her ears about how pathetic the tears rolling down her face were. Just because she was left alone, just because no one was around to pay attention? She felt selfish, pathetic.. Helpless.
Yes, tonight was another one of the many dark night where she curled herself up and felt painfully small in such a large, empty world. Pantomiming coping methods from the old-world she never got to grow up in. Echoing romanticized manners of numbing the ache. Taking the burn of pain as a signal she was doing it right. After all, it brought her attention away from how miserably alone she was. Surrounded by bottles that kept a tally of her bad nights with the help of the scars etched firmly into her skin, like the battlescar of a war-torn warrior. Only to have been left by her own hand.
God, if it wasn’t the most crushing feeling in the world. To feel the tears rolling down her face and her shoulders shake as she sobbed, falling right back in old patterns. It felt like something was squeezing her heart as she pushed her chair back and brushed past the tears rolling down her cheeks. She could feel the disappointment already. (Maybe that was what caused the crushing ache in her chest..)
First things first. She approached the dresser with shaky hands, yanking the blue ribbon wrapped around the handle off and dropping it to the floor. The color just made her feel nauseous to look at. (The sick feeling was probably from guilt.) Her internal conflict was so great that she nearly dropped the bottle moments after picking it up. Flashbacks to every single time she’d sank this low and the condescending ways her friends had talked to her. “Oh Roxy. You’re drunk again? Oh Roxy.” It was like they didn’t realize how hard she was trying.
Then again. They didn’t realize, did they? It wasn't like she'd ever confided in them. She hadn't gone to them for comfort, but crawled to the bottom of a bottle inside. She'd never even shared the extent of what caused her problems. As far as they knew.. It didn't delve this deep.
She slowly twisted the top off, mumbling a curse on her own weak will. Damning how she felt she could only exist when she felt like she was wanted. It would just be for one night. One more time. One last remedy for the broken soul with a liquid that scorched her insides. It would be private, secret. Something left alone with the tears, forgotten with the scars on her wrists. The disappointment would be left in the past, just like her habit was claimed to be..
She squeezed her eyes firmly shut, and raised the bottle to her lips.
Ding!
She paused, bottle to her lips but not quite tilted enough to spill the liquid.
Ding!
She looked over to her computer.
Ding!
Ding!
The bottle was abandoned on the top of her dresser, among the empty others served as discouragement. Silent figures to remind her how much of a problem it had been.
GG: Oh! Gosh, I’m sorry, Rolal!
GG: It’s probably easy to see that I am awake. I was just caught up in a few too many things and they all snuck up on me, but I’m here now!
GG: I’d love the company!
TG: wel twist my arm why dnt u
GG: Hoohoo! Should I expect you soon?
TG: imma just get a lil cleaned up.
TG: pretty myslef up for u ;)
GG: You dork!
TG: is tht a bad thing?
GG: Certainly not!
GG: It’s apart of who you are.
GG: My best friend.
TG: aw
TG youre gon make me cry
TG: ill b ovr soon
Roxy took a deep, steadying breath. Brushing the remaining tears away from her cheeks. She was going to be okay. She just needed to calm down. Relax. Deep breaths.
TG: ay janey?
TG: i lov u
GG: Aw, shucks.
GG: You too, Rolal.
TG: <3
Yeah. She was going to be okay.
Just like always.
As it turned out, bottles full of alcohol weren’t the ones she used to cope. A good cork in a bottle of emotions sufficed fairly well until another dark night, when she was alone once again.