Secondhand Smoke

“Holy Shit.” I said, still stunned at what I had just saw.
“What? What’re you looking at baby?” The slutty girl said.
“Y-You need to leave p-please.” I told her. I couldn’t just explain to her that my dead boyfriend just appeared in my room. I didn’t see that going over well.

“What?” She asked, obviously confused.
“Get out!” I said, then picked up her clothes and threw them at her.
She stumbled into her shirt and jeans. “You’re a freak. You think I don’t know what happened to you?” she started to get in my face, “you were all over the newspapers a month ago. You killed your boyfriend, you faggot. I only said I would sleep with you because I felt bad for you.” She spat in my face, then walked out my front door.

I didn’t see Frank for a while after that. It must’ve been a few months. I blamed the whole thing on the alcohol i had previously consumed.

Every day felt like pure agony. Everything reminded me of Frank. I hated the fact that he isn’t here anymore. I missed so much that it physically hurt me.I would think about him so much that I would get headaches. My eyes constantly burned from crying. I drank every night, in hopes that I would see him again, like I did the night I almost slept with that girl. Some nights it would get so bad that I had to find ways to get high in order to keep from killing myself. I don’t know why I didn’t just end it all to begin with. I’m alone, and I’m depressed.

I got up and walked to my medicine cabinet, and pulled out three large bottles of sleep medication. I used to have bad insomnia so I had a few bottles left over from it. I poured each pill into my hand and walked into my kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of Vodka and sat down on my couch. I took a few drinks, then smiled at the picture of Frank on my coffee table. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” I whispered, then put a few pills in my mouth and washed them down with a swig of vodka.
After about half of the pills were gone, my eyes were getting heavier and heavier. I kept smiling at the picture on the table. I missed him too much.
I lay my head back on the couch and tried to picture what heaven would be like with Frank. It would be so nice, I imagine. I was just about to close my eyes, when I heard the shatter of glass. I sat up quickly and looked around. The picture of Frank had fallen over and the glass cracked. I picked it up and looked at it. I stared at my reflection in the cracked glass. Then I saw something behind me. I turned around and saw Frank.
My stomach immediately started hurting and i hunched over, and threw up all over my floor. I threw up for what felt like hours, but was probably only 30 minutes.
I started sobbing, knowing that I had thrown up all of the pills that were going to bring me closer to the love of my life. I suddenly remembered that I had saw Frank. I glanced back up to where he was and he was gone.
“Why are you fucking doing this to me? It hurts me so bad.” I yelled, cursing at no one in particular. I laid down on the floor next to my own vomit and fell asleep, hoping that when I woke up, my whole shitty life will have been a bad dream.

Notes