Prologue

What has my life become? I wondered, lying in my bed, trying helplessly to break the pattern of sleep deprivation. My hands scraped against my rough, unshaven face. As I pulled them back, I realised that, once again, my body was drenched in sweat. I rubbed my eyes, trying to relieve the heaviness that had been brought on from another sleepless night; specks of light flooded my vision.

My room was starting to become bright, looking through the window I noticed the sun peeking out behind the hills, lightening an otherwise dark and corrupt world. I didn’t know what day it was anymore. I didn’t even know what month it was. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to sleep, for a few hours, or days. Maybe even forever. I decided it was time to get out of bed. Sleep wasn’t coming, I knew that. It hadn’t visited me in days.

Walking through to the kitchen I realised how messy my apartment had gotten. Clothes were strewn across the small space I called a living room. There were unwashed dishes and cutlery cluttering the stained counter top. Dirt and grime covered the walls, stove and basin. I picked up a dirty mug from the sink and flicked the switch on the kettle. It didn’t matter to me that the mug had coffee stains and grime in it, I needed a caffeine fix to get me through another day. I don’t remember the last time I had eaten, all I’ve consumed in days is coffee.

I lounged on the two seater couch with a coffee in one hand a TV remote in the other. I turned on the television, not caring what was on, as long as I wasn’t left alone with my thoughts. Everything was fine until the news updates flashed the screen with drama. Normally, I wouldn’t care about what was going on in the world, but this one particular story caught my attention. Turning up the volume loud enough my downstairs neighbours could hear, I heard something that made my whole face turn white and my stomach churn with despair.

“The body of twenty-six year old Isabela Blake was found in her fourth storey apartment late last night. Authorities say she died of a suspected drug overdose. Thousands of dollars worth of illegal and prescription drugs, as well as syringes and smoking implements had been seized from her apartment at the scene.”

A picture of her showed up on the screen and a lump formed in my throat as well as a knot in my stomach. I quickly ran to the toilet; just in time for, what felt like, litres of coffee and stomach acid to expel itself from my mouth. Feeling flushed, I sat against the wall of my bathroom, beads of sweat dripping from my forehead.

It was her. She was dead. I began to cry uncontrollably. It was something that I had expected but now that my suspicions had been verified, I felt completely lost in this world. Maybe I needed help, but it wasn’t something I was going to admit, not to myself or anybody else. Not that I had anyone, I’d lost everyone I’d ever loved. I was alone.

Author's Note

Be honest, please.