But when I reach the bathroom door, I stop, not wanting to even see my own reflection.
I turn back toward the bed, and the room now feels too big, too bright.
I need to hide, disappear from all this.
I lunge for the bed and yank the heavy duvet off, dragging it over my head as I collapse onto the mattress.
The darkness is immediate, but it's too heavy, and I feel like I can't breathe.
I rip the duvet off and gasp for air. The room tilts slightly, and I blink, trying to steady myself.
Suddenly, I'm so tired, and my body feels like it's made of lead, every muscle aching, every bone heavy.
When was the last time I slept without the pills?
I don't remember.
I pull the duvet back over my head, slower this time, and curl into a tight ball beneath it.
The darkness is suffocating, but it's also safe.
No one can see me here as I cry.
I close my eyes, and the sobs finally start to fade, replaced by a deep exhaustion I've never known that pulls at every part of me.
My breathing slows, and my body goes limp as the world around me fades, and before I know it, I'm gone.
BREAK?
I jolt awake, kicking the sheets off of me, and my eyes squint from the sudden brightness.
I groan, turning my face into the pillow to avoid the sunlight. As I fully come to, my head throbs. The headache I felt the twinges of has gotten worse. It's a pulsing pain that radiates from the base of my skull to my temples.
My mouth is dry, my throat raw, and my stomach churns with nausea.
I wonder what time it is.
I blink, squinting at the window, but the light is too bright to tell. Morning, maybe, or early afternoon.
I sit up slowly, my body protesting every movement. I lift my arms out, and my hands tremble.
That mixed with everything, I think I'm having withdrawals.
It's the strangest feeling. My muscles ache, and every joint in my body feels stiff and sore, like I worked out in the gym for hours.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit there for a moment, staring at the floor. I then look up at the door, and the sight of it sends a spike of panic through my chest.
I locked him out. I disobeyed.
Will I be punished?
I force myself to stand because I know I have to open the door and face him. If I don't, it'll just be worse.
I walk slowly toward the door. My fingers hesitate on the lock, and I take a deep breath, bracing myself.
He's going to be angry. I'm sure of it.
I turn the lock and pull the door open.