Already Gone

You Say

"No..." I suddenly felt sick, "No, no, no, no...I didn't kill her."

"Okay, we believe you it's okay," Callie said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

   I flinched away, pushing the plate of pizza further away from me. My hand flew over my mouth as I gagged.

"Here, it's okay," Arizona was by my side, a trash can in her hand.

   I leaned over into the can, feeling like I was going to puke, but I didn't. Instead, I dry-heaved for a few minutes, almost wishing that I would actually throw up. Finally, I gave up and trying to empty my stomach and sat back upright.

"Sorry," I mumbled an apology, looking down at my fingers.

"Don't apologize," Arizona told me and I nodded, though I didn't look up at her.

"I didn't kill her," I whispered, "But I could have prevented her death...I should have."

   I started to feel sick again but I tried not to think about it as I shut my eyes again. The memories of the day Stella died were trying to push their way back into my mind but I was putting up a battle.

   Finally, I gave up and decided to tell them. Maybe saying the words out loud could give me some kind of closure. 

   Internally, I snorted.

As if.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I muttered, feeling a ball of anger start to form in my gut for some reason.

   Arizona nodded, "That's fine. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

   I swallowed hard, my once hungry and growling stomach now tossed and turned at just the thought of food.

I didn't want food, I wanted painkillers.

   Ashamed and angry, I burst into tears. It felt like I was feeling every single emotion on the emotional spectrum and it was overwhelming my brain.

"Oh, sweetie," Callie rubbed my back comfortingly, "Do you want some water?"

   I shook my head, trying to stop my tears and cries as I quickly wiped my wet cheeks.

"What I want is my sister," I whispered,  starting to rock myself back and forth on the stool, "What I want are those painkillers, but I can't have them because...because!"

   I let out a frustrated scream and grabbed a fistful of my hair in each hand, still rocking back on forth on the stool I sat on.

"I can't even make it past day one without thinking about it," I shook my head, mad at myself for wanting something that was hurting me, "There's no way I'm going to stay clean."

"Hey...don't say that," Callie said, "It's normal to still want them, that was your coping mechanism."

"Yeah," Arizona agreed, "You just have to find a new coping mechanism."

   Biting my lip, I nodded and opened my eyes so that I could look at them.

"And how do I do that?" I asked softly.

"Do you have any hobbies?" Arizona asked, "Sports maybe?"

   I couldn't help but snort at that, "No...me and sports do not mix well. That's a perfect recipe for someone getting injured."

"Fair enough," Callie chuckled, "What about the arts? Painting? Drawing? Dance maybe?"

   I bit my lip, "We couldn't really afford art supplies, nevermind dance classes."