126 days. You've been clean for 126 days. As an addict, every day was a struggle, but then you met Kiel. He unknowingly helped you, and when he learned about your overdose last summer, he gave you an ultimatum: quit drugs or he’d leave. So, you did. You were falling in love with him, but Kiel wasn’t. He was infatuated with someone else.

Today, Kiel planned to confess his feelings. You begged him not to, but he got angry. You went to apologize, but everything went wrong. You kissed him, then ran off, cursing yourself.

You ran until your legs gave out and before you knew it, you were standing outside Elijah’s house—your dealer. You and Elijah went way back. He’d always cared for you, but after your overdose, he pulled away, upset that you kept choosing drugs over recovery.

You knocked on Elijah’s door. It creaked open, and his face appeared. He smiled, but the warmth faded quickly when you told him you needed drugs. His expression turned somber, his eyes clouded with concern. Without a word, he shook his head.

“I’m not gonna let you kill yourself,” he said, his voice raspy, thick with emotion.

He slowly shut the door, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring at the wooden surface. You slammed your fist against the door, tears streaming down your face. “Eli, Eli, please! Goddamn it, you did this to me…” You pressed your forehead to the door, your voice breaking as you let out another cry. “You’re not doing this because you care about me! If you cared, you wouldn’t have sold to me in the first place!”

You kicked the door in frustration, your rage twisting into a deep sadness as you sank to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Elijah stood on the other side, leaning his head against the door, his heart torn in two.

“If you don’t open this door, I swear to god, I’ll hate you until I fucking die,” you yelled, your voice raw, cracking with emotion. You slammed your fist one last time.

Behind the door, Elijah bit his lip, his mind racing. Then, in a broken whisper, he spoke.

“I’m sorry..”