Dr. Hammer wants to eradicate us?
Not if I eradicate myself first.
What’s the difference anyway between dying on the outside and dying on the inside? My outside and inside have never been particularly connected in the first place.
I pick up my phone, swallow hard, and type my last message to Mack. If I don’t go to him, he can’t come to me. He can’t be seen out in broad daylight. It’s too risky. Especially not with the protestors out. And he’s too close to the portal time. So, I know what I have to do.
Jules: I love you. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved. You’re the only one I ever will. But it’s over. And it’s better this way.
Dr. Hammer said to never take all the pills at once.
I stumble over as if in a drunken trance to my table, pick up the orange bottle there, and dump every last pill down my throat, coughing and hacking as I chew the bitter dust.
A few minutes later, everything disappears.
Chapter 31
Something is wrong. Very wrong.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
My eyes open, but I can’t see. How much time has passed? Where am I?
I wipe my mouth, and drool is crusted over my cheek.
I stretch my hand in front of my eyes, and I see it as if it’s a stranger’s arm. As if I’ve never seen it before. I tilt my head, closing my fingers into a first.
Nothing.
Not a single sensation or sound penetrates the daze.
Numb. Like an etherized patient pinned to a table.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
The loud banging continues, but my brain doesn’t accept it. It’s nothing but a tiny little buzz in a distant universe. Muted and dying.
I stagger to my feet, my perspective swaying back and forth, my knees weak.
Then I spread out my arms and let my head fall back.
And I spin my body in a circle.
All around me, movement is happening, but I’m not really here. No one is.
I’m gone.
Goodbye.
The door swings open, and a person I recognize is there. But he’s not a person . . . no . . . he’s something else.
His mouth moves big and wide, but no sound reaches my ears, just an ever-muted, ringing hum.
He dashes around my apartment, but I’m still here in the middle. Spinning, spinning, spinning.
He’s got the pill bottle from the table.
And then memories trickle in from the back of my brain like a little mouse sneaking in through the cracks of a wall.
I took those pills.
I took all of them.
Because I wanted to eradicate myself.
My eyes begin to well up . . . but I can’t do anything but spin in slow circles. Wetness falls from my face, clings to my skin, drops to the floor.
And then I drop too.
***
I come to with my head above the toilet, gasping for air, my guts splashed into the bowl.
“Jules, can you hear me? Jules?”
The voice is echoey at first but then slams into me with crystal clarity.
Jules, come back to me. I swear to god, Jules. Come back!
