Stolen Voices ✓

October 9th

Please listen to this beautiful song, I feel like it fits them.

Mara is in a sort of low, so light trigger warning on some dark thoughts.

October 9th:

11:01 p.m-

How many pills does it take to kill a person?

The question isn't how many you take but how prolonged it takes to slow down your heartbeat until you inevitably succumb. Because it isn't instant death, but one that progresses slowly, so sluggish that you find yourself taking more and more. Until you can't remember when the bottle became empty.

So how many pills does it take to kill a person who's already breaking inside?

Well it's not 27 pills. Mara realized that after her brother found her sprawled out on the tiled bathroom with bloodshot eyes. But she wasn't tearing inside then, not really, not in the way she is now. Mara was fifteen and stupid then, just looking for relaxation. But now she has the knowledge of what doesn't work, and that isn't good.

The pills are in her hand, little white things that can be the end to all of this. Her heart is already destroyed. So she pleads again, with a sob in her windpipe and tears streaming down her face. Her nose running, her breath shattered as she whispered for someone to come, for someone to see.

How many pills does it take to kill a person?

Maybe she will get the formula right this time. Maybe, Mara will decrease her heartbeat just enough that all the grief will dwindle away. And she will be left as the cold exterior of a girl she once was, the girl she yearns to be again.

12:23 a.m-

Cairo and Ryn are out of town on a date, leaving Mara home alone. Although the apartment isn't that large, with just a few bedrooms and a bathroom, Mara feels so chilled. So by herself that Mara finds herself entwined in her bedsheets, trying to breathe through the cruel logic racing through her mind.

The bathroom cabinet is only a few steps away.

She is experiencing a low, feeling so isolated. With her different meds and the move, she maybe hadn't been as consistent as she should have been with her schedule. Now, with the TV in her room softly playing cartoons, she feels like sobbing.

But she doesn't have any tears left to shed. So absolutely drained that she just observes the characters dance across the screen, just staring. Letting it pass the long time as she can't seem to fall asleep.

2:06 a.m-

Shadows from the lively city outside dance on her white walls. The voices of groups walking the streets below, flowing in through the opening in her window. The soft draft of autumn wind filling the small compartment that is her bedroom.

It isn't much to look at yet, just a smaller bed pressed against the wall in one corner, a dresser shoved in the other. The TV is on top of the old dresser, playing even quieter than before.

Her fingers tremble as they hover over the familiar numbers. Sleep isn't even a thought anymore, and Mara is exhausted. Half lucid and in a state of distress, she uses that as an excuse to dial the phone number burned in her memory.

She had promised to stay away, to cache her problems elsewhere. But this isn't the first promise to him she's broken. She just needs to hear his voice, that low gravelly timbre that used to soothe her to sleep.