blind - owen teague | ✔️

19. I Saw Red

A sudden panic had taken over my insides, ripping it and tearing my already bruised heart in its wake. It was the worst feeling, to not know what you'd done. My whole body felt the pain physically, and my heart wasn't just breaking; it was ripping, tearing, shredding, and it just felt so empty.

I couldn't stop feeling it. There was a storm brewing in my stomach, the warm tears streaming down my cheeks as my hands shook while I gripped the sheets. This pain had taken my insides captive and he'd drug my heart out the door when he left.

I was losing this fight.

These head games weren't fair. My face felt hot and my insides were twisted. My stomach was tied in knots and his words rang in my head. Why did we fight?

The sobs came so hard they left my whole body quivering with coughs leaving my throat, wet and cracking.

"Holy shit."

"Owen, this isn't a game."

I couldn't take it. Get out of my head, I willed. If I willed it all away, it wouldn't be there. We weren't making love, we were making head games. No one was to blame, right?

"Back in black."

"Looking for something, [F/n]?"

"My sweet, sweet darlin'..."

Get out of my head.

"I'll start doing this for you. Showing you the world as I see it."

My heart thumped wildly in my ears as my hands went to my unbrushed strands, gripping them in the roots. My breaths came rough and shuddery, convulsing my whole body as my stomach churned, saliva filling my mouth.

"Lift your arms up, sweetheart."

"Get out of my head." My voice was harsh, forced through the broken, thick sob trapped in my throat.

"Just trust me."

"Don't start thinking that."

"You're never satisfied."

"Get out of my head!" I cried to myself as my heart clamped up in a harsh cramp, twisting and gutting its feelings out inside me. Finally, my body moved from against the wall, my hands frantically searching off the edge of the bed.

Searching blindly, my hands finally came in contact with a rustling thin bag, yanking the hard plastic container up. The contents of my lunch were expelled from my body into it, compelled from the harsh words in my head.

Each word was a metal edge digging in my heart, each heave forcing out the emotions with the food as the tears never stopped. They could never stop.

My hand held onto the edge of the night stand, my body rejecting everything inside as the feeling of nausea didn't end. My body had become physically sick from he strength of the emotions within me. My hair stuck to my forehead, slick with sweat as my body became overheated.

When there was nothing else inside me, my stomach threw up acid, the liquid dribbling from my trembling, convulsing frame. The emptiness consumed me. I thought being alone hurt the most, but what hurt the most was having a taste of it, then having it ripped away.

My body shook as the heaves stopped, and the can was sat on the cool tiled floor. I crumbled like a playing card statue being blown on, collapsing against the bed on my back, panting sobs still leaving my lips. My stomach ached, my chest empty and wanting the love we once had.

Was it even love?

Every part of me wondered why I had let my guard fall once again. I was still chained to him, I was still wishing he wasn't on my mind. He always seemed to be on my mind. He was always there, so much it made my body ache.

I was a puppet on his string. Everything he did made my mind and body reply, leaning to his whim and every beck and call.

A soft pattering on the roof of the hospital let me know this day wasn't going to get any better. I was trying so hard for his love, to do as he asked, and my whole world was falling apart on me in reply.

I heard the door click and my heart screamed in hope that it was Owen to pull me close and let me know it was okay, he wasn't mad, he was just stressed, it was a mistake, anything - then, my heart's wings were broken at the sound of heels.

"[F/n]? Are you okay?" Anisa's voice filled my ears and I mentally sobbed. Why couldn't it have been any other doctor? Any other nurse? Why?

It was like I was damned if I didn't, damned if I did. Every way I turned, I hit a fucking wall.

A cool hand pressed on my forehead and I coughed a little, mucus still stuck in my throat from the harsh vomiting. "You've got a fever. On a scale of one to ten, what's your pain level?" I heard tape ripping.

"I know you're not in enough pain to require Oxycontin."

"9. My upper stomach." I lied. Her hands pressed on my empty stomach and I curled up at the pressure, a soft whimpering expelling from my lips. "There." I said when she touched my abdomen.

I felt a tube being taped to my hand and I knew she was starting me back on Oxycontin as soon as the relaxing effects started on my arms, distracting me from the emptiness of my stomach.

A relaxed sigh was compelled from my lips and my lids slid shut, and my world blinked out.

-

Everything was warm. I couldn't hear a thing but foggy sounds of light tapping. Was it water dripping? A stream? No, rain. It was still raining.

My body was curled into a ball and it felt like my entire body was swaddled. I couldn't feel my hand as I attempted to move it, but my hand barely replied to what my mind told it to do.

Spikes went up to numb arm with each try of me trying to shut my fist. How much Oxycontin was I on?

I gave up and my heavy, fogged head laid still on the pillow as creeping tiredness tried to close in on me. It was coming over like a murky blanket, all my senses nullified except for smell.

A minty scent overwhelmed my senses, my mind struggling to make the vague familiar connection as I felt my body be pulled to a heater-like center, and I wanted to move, but the drugs held me underwater.

"I'm so fucking stupid."

The lights went out again.