Chapter 9: Are dreams real?
Nevaeh
Shooting up from my bed, I glance groggily at my vibrating cell phone and close my eyes in hopes that the pounding in my head will subside. I lick my dry lips and grimace because my mouth tastes like garbage.
After Mikhail left last night, I became a little depressed and cried over a carton of ice cream. Not getting any positive results, I decided to go into my parents' drinking cabinet and drank nearly half a bottle of vodka.
I’m really regretting it now. “Ughhh,” I groan out, trying to get up from the bed as my phone continues to vibrate. Reaching forward, I pick it up from the side table and clumsily place it against my ear. It’s Jez. “Yeah, Jez. What’s up?” I rasp out hoarsely.
“Hey, Nev. Where the hell are you? Did you oversleep again?”
I
