She staggered out of her room with an aching sensation filling every inch of her dough. Her head especially was beginning to throb with pain- but really, her entire body was in general agony.

Her head was spinning, to the point she was starting to see double, and this combined with the sudden shortness of her breath t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷t̷e̷l̷l̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷p̷a̷n̷i̷c̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷r̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷e̷n̷ ̷y̷e̷t̷ ̷a̷n̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷e̷f̷f̷e̷c̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷c̷o̷n̷c̷o̷c̷t̷i̷o̷n̷ made walking to the living room take...

She didn't know how long.

The numbers on the clock, she couldn't read them anymore. She couldn't recognize them. She couldn't process any of them.

Her head hurt even more trying to do so.

But she eventually found her way in, and, after further difficulty bumping into the furniture, finally managed to sit herself down.

She lay back on the sofa, but even cessation of action did nothing to make breathing an easier task. She could feel her heart beating in her h̷e̷a̷d̷ chest. I̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷s̷p̷e̷a̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷v̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷s̷o̷n̷.̷ ̷S̷h̷o̷u̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷v̷e̷r̷ ̷i̷t̷.̷

'Why even bother sitting out here? You know he's not going to notice. Even if he does, he won't be concerned. Get to work; Be productive with your time at least...'

She shook any thought from her mind the moment her brother came into the room. She felt too weak to even spend the energy talking to him, s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷n̷ ̷s̷u̷r̷e̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷a̷b̷l̷e̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷g̷e̷t̷ ̷a̷ ̷c̷o̷h̷e̷r̷e̷n̷t̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷d̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷,̷ but surely he'd at least ask how she was doing. And then when she didn't answer, he'd look at her, and then he'd notice something was wrong-

But he just walked on by.

H̷e̷ ̷s̷a̷i̷d̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷,̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷f̷o̷c̷u̷s̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷d̷s̷.̷ ̷A̷n̷d̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷d̷i̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷c̷h̷a̷n̷g̷e̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷f̷a̷c̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷he just left the room a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷.̷

(̷M̷a̷y̷b̷e̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷s̷o̷u̷n̷d̷e̷d̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷"̷L̷o̷v̷e̷ ̷y̷a̷,̷ ̷s̷i̷s̷"̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷t̷e̷l̷l̷.̷ ̷S̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷h̷a̷v̷e̷ ̷b̷e̷l̷i̷e̷v̷e̷d̷ ̷i̷t̷,̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷.̷)̷

That woefully familiar miasma of grape juice hit her senses, worsening that already overwhelming nausea of hers. Stronger than ever. O̷r̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷a̷m̷e̷ ̷a̷s̷ ̷u̷s̷u̷a̷l̷.̷.̷.̷?̷ ̷E̷v̷e̷r̷y̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷f̷e̷l̷t̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷s̷e̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷s̷.̷.̷.̷

'...what a joke. He just walked right past you. He probably didn't even realize you're here. He probably forgot you again.'

The leaks were back, gushing, overflowing- and she didn't have the energy to fix them. Agonizing all alone, with this toxin eating away at her system...

If it didn't crumble her tonight, she'd try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. And over and over again until he finally noticed that something was wrong...

S̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷l̷e̷p̷t̷ ̷u̷n̷r̷e̷s̷t̷f̷u̷l̷l̷y̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷n̷i̷g̷h̷t̷,̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷o̷u̷g̷h̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷e̷f̷f̷e̷c̷t̷s̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷n̷c̷o̷c̷t̷i̷o̷n̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷m̷o̷s̷t̷l̷y̷ ̷s̷u̷b̷s̷i̷d̷e̷d̷ ̷b̷y̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷a̷f̷t̷e̷r̷n̷o̷o̷n̷ ̷w̷h̷e̷n̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷k̷e̷ ̷u̷p̷,̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷t̷i̷l̷l̷ ̷f̷e̷l̷t̷ ̷t̷i̷r̷e̷d̷.̷

She planned her routine out from there: Every day, once she woke up (̷f̷r̷u̷s̷t̷r̷a̷t̷i̷n̷g̷l̷y̷,̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷a̷l̷r̷e̷a̷d̷y̷ ̷d̷i̷f̷f̷i̷c̷u̷l̷t̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷k̷e̷e̷p̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷u̷s̷u̷a̷l̷ ̷s̷c̷h̷e̷d̷u̷l̷e̷)̷, she would immediately take a drink of the poison before she even went to eat breakfast. She'd then just let the day play out as she rapidly grew ill, and see if her brother ever asked about her health.

He didn't ask her. One day, two days, three days- she seldom spoke to him, as he'd be either in his room lazing around or indulging in the one thing he cared about in the world, or at Sparkling Cookie's- and she was just exuberant to see the look on his and Vampire Cookie's faces the inevitable day she'd come in to do her usual 'nag-and-drag' routine and at best not even have the physical strength to get her brother off the floor and at worst-

'You could crumble right in front of him and he wouldn't say a thing. He doesn't care about you. He's NEVER cared about you.'

She didn't care anymore.

That night, though- her brother staggered home with his arm over another Cookie's shoulder again. This time, however, it was Sparkling Cookie himself who accompanied the drunken Cookie through the door.

She didn't know this until the two of them walked into the living room, where she was leaning over the left side of the couch t̷r̷y̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷n̷o̷t̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷p̷a̷s̷s̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷f̷r̷o̷m̷ ̷e̷x̷h̷a̷u̷s̷t̷i̷o̷n̷.

"Oh. Well, hello there, Alchemist Cookie!" Sparkling Cookie smiled at her w̷i̷t̷h̷ ̷a̷ ̷w̷a̷r̷m̷t̷h̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷f̷e̷e̷l̷.̷

"He-ey, lil sis! *hic*" Vampire Cookie gave a loose, lazy wave. "How ya doin???"

Alchemist Cookie didn't want to speak to either of them. Tiredness was the bulk of the reason, s̷h̷e̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷l̷l̷y̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷v̷o̷c̷a̷l̷i̷z̷e̷d̷ ̷m̷u̷c̷h̷ ̷a̷t̷ ̷a̷l̷l̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷p̷a̷s̷t̷ ̷f̷e̷w̷ ̷d̷a̷y̷s̷ ̷s̷i̷n̷c̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷e̷x̷p̷e̷r̷i̷m̷e̷n̷t̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷g̷u̷n̷,̷ but really what could she have said to either of these Cookies?

Sparkling Cookie. The Cookie that ran the juice bar. The Cookie that called her on the phone at bare minimum three times per week just to pick her brother up from said juice bar. The Cookie who did nothing but serve that disgusting, baneful juice.

She really resented Sparkling Cookie.

And her brother...

Immediately flopped himself next to her, as close as possible, forcing her to take in that grossly prominent grape juice smell, as if it weren't hard enough to breathe already. And l̷o̷v̷i̷n̷g̷l̷y̷,̷ he started clinging to her side by the arm, practically leaning all of his weight into her as if he hadn't been a heavy enough burden-

His body was as cold as always. She knew to expect that from him. She was always prepared to feel that. A̷n̷d̷ ̷n̷o̷r̷m̷a̷l̷l̷y̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷p̷h̷y̷s̷i̷c̷a̷l̷ ̷c̷o̷l̷d̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷e̷a̷s̷y̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷i̷g̷n̷o̷r̷e̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷n̷k̷s̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷e̷m̷o̷t̷i̷o̷n̷a̷l̷ ̷w̷a̷r̷m̷t̷h̷.̷ ̷B̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷f̷e̷e̷l̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷m̷o̷r̷e̷.̷.̷.̷

She was so, so cold.

"Alchemist Cookie? You're shivering... are you alright?" Sparkling Cookie looked at her carefully a̷n̷d̷ ̷w̷i̷t̷h̷ ̷c̷o̷n̷c̷e̷r̷n̷,̷ coming closer to her. She couldn't get up. "You look... unwell..."

...

She tried to say something, but all she could get out were wheezing breaths and a hacking cough she couldn't cover up.

Sparkling Cookie put his hand to her forehead. She didn't have the energy to get it away.

"Hmmm... you're not burning up, but you sure look sick. And you sound sick, too..."

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh... ya look kinda funny..."

Her brother's face was practically pressed into hers as his spacey eyes made direct contact with hers a̷n̷d̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷h̷o̷p̷e̷d̷ ̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷n̷o̷t̷i̷c̷e̷ ̷h̷o̷w̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷y̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷d̷u̷l̷l̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷l̷i̷f̷e̷l̷e̷s̷s̷n̷e̷s̷s̷ ̷b̷y̷ ̷n̷o̷w̷ as she turned her head too, and even just that caused her a splitting headache that she did her best to ignore because she wasn't going to let Sparkling Cookie see that.

"...eh, doesn't look like much. Looks like Alchemist Cookie like always. *hiccup* You're fiiiiiiine~ It's whateeeeeeever~"

He didn't notice. He didn't care.

Sparkling Cookie sighed and pried Vampire Cookie from her, g̷e̷n̷t̷l̷y̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷t̷i̷l̷l̷ causing her pain yet again. Vampire Cookie just leaned to the other side of the couch, oblivious just as he always was.

"Don't be a buzzkill, Sparkling Cookie!! *hiccup* I was all nice and comfy right there... Can't a Cookie just give his lil sis a hug in peace?? What's this world come to... *sigh*"

T̷h̷e̷ ̷l̷o̷o̷k̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷S̷p̷a̷r̷k̷l̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷C̷o̷o̷k̷i̷e̷'̷s̷ ̷f̷a̷c̷e̷ ̷s̷e̷e̷m̷e̷d̷ ̷d̷i̷s̷a̷p̷p̷o̷i̷n̷t̷e̷d̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷u̷n̷s̷u̷r̷p̷r̷i̷s̷e̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷f̷o̷r̷e̷ his attention shifted back to Alchemist Cookie:

"Thank goodness it was a slow day at the bar tonight. There's no way Vampire Cookie would be able to take care of you like this..."

If he was implying what she thought he was implying, then she wished she could just get up and run away, but she knew the air would leave her faster than it could get to her.

She didn't want him hanging around her house. Her brother had enough access to grape juice already. She wasn't going to let him have the idea of bringing bar nights into their house. She already couldn't escape them normally.

She just barely scraped together enough energy to shake her head, weakly. She tried to get up, now that her brother was off of her and couldn't weigh her down.

The dizziness set in immediately as she could barely find balance in her feet, waving her arms around trying to find a support-

Sparkling Cookie's hands approached t̷o̷ ̷h̷e̷l̷p̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷b̷i̷l̷i̷z̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷,̷ but she slapped them away before they could make contact. Purposefully.

"A-Alchemist Cookie, let me help you to your room, please. You're clearly too weak to stand on your own..."

As she tottered towards the wall to lean against it, she glared back at him and tried to mouth her answer:

I want you gone.

She knew he could lip-read decently enough. She knew the way she mouthed it was obvious enough.

She didn't care.

S̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷a̷w̷ ̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷f̷e̷e̷l̷i̷n̷g̷s̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷f̷a̷c̷e̷.̷ ̷I̷n̷ ̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷e̷y̷e̷s̷.̷ ̷T̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷h̷o̷c̷k̷,̷ ̷c̷o̷n̷f̷u̷s̷i̷o̷n̷,̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷r̷y̷.̷ ̷H̷u̷r̷t̷.̷She didn't feel bad. Not for the barkeep that drove her and her brother only further apart. M̷a̷y̷b̷e̷ ̷a̷ ̷l̷i̷t̷t̷l̷e̷,̷ ̷f̷o̷r̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷m̷i̷x̷o̷l̷o̷g̷i̷s̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷'̷d̷ ̷a̷l̷w̷a̷y̷s̷ ̷b̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷ ̷s̷e̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷o̷l̷d̷ ̷a̷l̷c̷h̷e̷m̷y̷ ̷t̷e̷x̷t̷b̷o̷o̷k̷s̷ ̷f̷r̷o̷m̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷b̷a̷c̷k̷ ̷w̷h̷e̷n̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷n̷e̷e̷d̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷h̷a̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷r̷o̷u̷n̷d̷,̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷'̷d̷ ̷p̷r̷a̷c̷t̷i̷c̷a̷l̷l̷y̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷m̷e̷m̷o̷r̷i̷z̷e̷d̷ ̷f̷r̷o̷m̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷a̷m̷o̷u̷n̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷t̷i̷m̷e̷s̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷'̷d̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷m̷ ̷a̷l̷l̷ ̷f̷r̷o̷n̷t̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷b̷a̷c̷k̷.̷ She turned away before staggering over to the hallway.

"G'nighty night, sis~, don't *hic* don't let the... what's the sayin again? Whatever, sweet dreams..."

She turned in early that night. She didn't have anything better to do anyway. She couldn't do anything else like this. S̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷d̷o̷ ̷a̷l̷c̷h̷e̷m̷y̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷m̷o̷r̷e̷.̷ But she didn't care.

She was beginning to accept the struggle to sit up or even just to open her eyes in the morning, the way her vision would still be so blurry and unfocused even after putting her glasses on that she wasn't certain they were even on her face, the lingering aches and pains that hung over every moment...

"...Alchemist Cookie...? Alchemist Cookie!"

This wasn't part of the routine.

She had been sitting there at the edge of her bed for w̷h̷o̷-̷k̷n̷o̷w̷s̷-̷h̷o̷w̷-̷l̷o̷n̷g̷ likely a minute before she realized a voice she knew all too well was inside her room.

Vampire Cookie.

She looked over to see him leaning with his back to the side of her cauldron pot, holding one of her vials.

She just barely mustered the words with airy breaths in-between: "Wh-what are... you doing... up... this ear...ly!?"

"Uhhh... first of all, it's 4 in the afternoon." He walked to her as she sulked in place w̷i̷t̷h̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷e̷n̷e̷r̷g̷y̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷m̷o̷v̷e̷.̷ "Second of all, Sparkling Cookie told me that last night, he noticed you were feeling... more than a little under-the-weather. So I came in here to check on you, and I saw... whatever that is."

He pointed over to the cauldron. H̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷a̷r̷t̷ ̷s̷k̷i̷p̷p̷e̷d̷ ̷a̷ ̷b̷e̷a̷t̷.̷

"Well, I looked at it and thought that maybe you'd finally made more of that wonderful pink juice that you'd kept insisting was 'just an accident' and 'you didn't have the recipe for.' So, I couldn't help but have a little drink..."

Ah, yes, the 'Pink Juice Incident.' The one that had dyed most of the kingdom pink with love. She had been so confused that night when both her brother and Sparkling Cookie came and started thanking her profusely for "that delicious rosé juice" and "the boost in business for the day." That was the first time Sparkling Cookie had ever been over at their home. (And she wished the two of them could've been a little less... excessively romantic.)

.̷.̷.̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷b̷r̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷e̷n̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷s̷w̷e̷e̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷n̷i̷g̷h̷t̷.̷ ̷W̷h̷e̷n̷ ̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷r̷a̷m̷b̷l̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷a̷b̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷h̷o̷w̷ ̷d̷e̷b̷o̷n̷a̷i̷r̷ ̷S̷p̷a̷r̷k̷l̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷C̷o̷o̷k̷i̷e̷ ̷l̷o̷o̷k̷e̷d̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷p̷i̷n̷k̷,̷ ̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷g̷i̷v̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷a̷ ̷p̷a̷t̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷a̷d̷ ̷o̷r̷ ̷s̷a̷y̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷b̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷f̷i̷v̷e̷ ̷t̷i̷m̷e̷s̷ ̷t̷o̷t̷a̷l̷ ̷"̷c̷h̷e̷e̷r̷s̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷m̷y̷ ̷b̷r̷i̷l̷l̷i̷a̷n̷t̷ ̷s̷i̷s̷t̷e̷r̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷a̷l̷c̷h̷e̷m̷y̷!̷"̷ ̷d̷e̷s̷p̷i̷t̷e̷ ̷n̷o̷ ̷o̷n̷e̷ ̷e̷l̷s̷e̷ ̷r̷a̷i̷s̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷ ̷g̷l̷a̷s̷s̷ ̷w̷i̷t̷h̷ ̷h̷i̷m̷,̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷'̷d̷ ̷f̷e̷l̷t̷ ̷a̷l̷l̷ ̷w̷a̷r̷m̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷f̷u̷z̷z̷y̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷i̷n̷s̷i̷d̷e̷.̷.̷.̷

I̷t̷ ̷a̷l̷m̷o̷s̷t̷ ̷m̷a̷d̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷w̷i̷s̷h̷,̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷ ̷d̷e̷e̷p̷ ̷s̷e̷l̷f̷i̷s̷h̷ ̷r̷e̷c̷e̷s̷s̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷m̷i̷n̷d̷,̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷m̷a̷k̷e̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷a̷g̷a̷i̷n̷.̷ ̷J̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷p̷r̷a̷i̷s̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷ ̷m̷o̷r̷e̷.̷ ̷S̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷r̷a̷v̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷v̷a̷l̷i̷d̷a̷t̷i̷o̷n̷.̷

.̷.̷.̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷.̷ ̷A̷n̷d̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷n̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷,̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷.̷ ̷S̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷p̷o̷i̷s̷o̷n̷ ̷h̷i̷m̷ ̷l̷i̷k̷e̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷f̷o̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷o̷w̷n̷ ̷n̷e̷e̷d̷s̷.̷

Wait...

H̷e̷ ̷d̷r̷a̷n̷k̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷p̷o̷i̷s̷o̷n̷.̷.̷.̷?̷ He drank her concoction!?

The look on his face changed from pleasant reminiscence to light disgust.

"But that stuff tastes awful...! What did you even put in there?"

...of course he wouldn't be affected. Her potions never worked on him. Even when she wanted them to. T̷h̷e̷ ̷'̷P̷i̷n̷k̷ ̷J̷u̷i̷c̷e̷'̷ ̷a̷f̷f̷e̷c̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷h̷i̷m̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷o̷n̷l̷y̷ ̷a̷ ̷r̷e̷s̷u̷l̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷o̷w̷ ̷h̷a̷p̷h̷a̷z̷a̷r̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷e̷n̷t̷i̷r̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷n̷c̷o̷c̷t̷i̷o̷n̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷e̷n̷.̷

She had once sought out to transmute her brother alchemically, to create some kind of potion that could eliminate that listless juice addiction of his. And yet none of them ever worked on anything but a normal Cookie.

There was that one time his personality seemingly inverted out of nowhere, where he started dressing and acting like her for a few days and even researching alchemy (...seemingly), that she never got an explanation for, until she came up with a potion to put him back to normal...

No. She knew her potions wouldn't have suddenly started working on him. She made all her concoctions with the reference of how to affect a normal Cookie, all the way down to composition. He wasn't normal. She had a whole pile of failed attempts at a working Flavor Reversal Potion by the end of her prior experiments in futility, after all. And she used them as the basis for the cure.

...in which case, she certainly couldn't have 'fixed him' by the end of it when he encroached on her field, so how did he return to normal...?

...

Had he really just been messing with her the whole time...?

S̷h̷e̷'̷d̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷w̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷r̷t̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷a̷p̷p̷r̷e̷c̷i̷a̷t̷e̷ ̷h̷i̷m̷ ̷m̷o̷r̷e̷ ̷a̷f̷t̷e̷r̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷i̷n̷c̷i̷d̷e̷n̷t̷.̷ ̷A̷t̷ ̷l̷e̷a̷s̷t̷,̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷l̷i̷z̷e̷d̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷p̷r̷o̷b̷l̷e̷m̷ ̷w̷i̷t̷h̷ ̷h̷i̷m̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷l̷e̷s̷s̷ ̷a̷b̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷h̷i̷m̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷m̷o̷r̷e̷.̷.̷.̷

Whatever. She didn't care anymore. "No juice, no Vampire Cookie," in his own words.

She tried to get up to her feet- and immediately she envied her brother's ability to levitate as the pain shot up through her legs.

"OW!!"

"Alchemist Cookie??"

"You... you drank my... my poi- my potion...!?"

"Yeah. So?"

"...grrrr..." she didn't look at him, but felt a sudden burst of... not as much as strength as it was anger, a̷n̷d̷ ̷y̷e̷t̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷s̷t̷i̷l̷l̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷e̷n̷o̷u̷g̷h̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷g̷i̷v̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷a̷n̷d̷s̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷t̷r̷e̷n̷g̷t̷h̷ ̷f̷o̷r̷ ̷f̷i̷s̷t̷s̷,̷ "why... why can't you... why can't you just control yourself for once!?"

It could hardly be called a shout, but s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷d̷o̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷m̷o̷r̷e̷.̷

B̷u̷t̷ she could spit venom just fine.

"...sis, what do you-"

"It's always drink this, drink that...!! All for you, you, YOU...!!!" She pushed him to the side and dragged her legs over to her prized pot. Looking into it, it didn't seem to have had much taken out of it, and yet she still felt furious that he had taken what was hers. As she turned back around and made sure to make direct eye contact, further infuriated by the confusion that met her, she put on a sarcastic tone and gestured sloppily as she mimicked her brother's voice: "Can't you make some juice with your alchemy?' this and 'Can you stop bothering me about alchemy when I'm trying to enjoy my juice?' that *pant*... and then you have the gall, to come into my room, and try to just drink anything that wasn't meant for you... and when it's not that, you're looking through my research notes, to see if they have anything about juice... because THAT'S ALL YOU EVER CARE ABOUT-"

Unable to keep up with her own shouting, she suddenly entered a violent coughing fit. S̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷b̷r̷e̷a̷t̷h̷e̷.̷ ̷V̷a̷m̷p̷i̷r̷e̷ ̷C̷o̷o̷k̷i̷e̷ ̷l̷o̷o̷k̷e̷d̷ ̷a̷ ̷m̷i̷x̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷o̷r̷r̷i̷f̷i̷e̷d̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷.̷.̷.̷ ̷m̷o̷r̷t̷i̷f̷i̷e̷d̷.̷

She had to support herself on the side of the cauldron to prevent herself from keeling over, with how light-headed she was getting. S̷h̷e̷'̷d̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷r̷t̷e̷d̷ ̷s̷p̷i̷t̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷v̷e̷n̷o̷m̷,̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷f̷e̷l̷t̷ ̷a̷s̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷e̷r̷e̷ ̷g̷o̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷r̷t̷ ̷s̷p̷i̷t̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷j̷a̷m̷.̷

As soon as she could get a breath back in, a̷s̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷a̷w̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷f̷a̷n̷g̷e̷d̷ ̷C̷o̷o̷k̷i̷e̷ ̷t̷a̷k̷e̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷a̷ ̷f̷e̷w̷ ̷q̷u̷i̷v̷e̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷s̷t̷e̷p̷s̷ ̷t̷o̷w̷a̷r̷d̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷w̷i̷t̷h̷ ̷a̷ ̷f̷a̷c̷e̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷r̷e̷m̷o̷r̷s̷e̷f̷u̷l̷ ̷s̷h̷o̷c̷k̷,̷ she shot a glare in his direction and finally gasped out:

"Why, does everything, have to be, about you...!? You... about your juice... is that... all I'm good for, to you...? Making juice, for you...? Taking care, of you...?? Catering, to you...!?!"

"..." Her brother stood frozen by her cold words. "...A-Alchemist Cookie, you know that's not true, you're not-"

"It's always, juice for you, juice for you..." As she gazed fondly into the contents of the cauldron, her mouth formed a t̷w̷i̷s̷t̷e̷d̷,̷ ̷b̷r̷o̷k̷e̷n̷ ̷f̷a̷c̷a̷d̷e̷ ̷o̷f̷ a smile: "But this, is for ME... this... makes me... feel better..."

It was funny to her, almost. The purpose of this entire experiment had once been to make her brother see what he was doing to h̷e̷r̷himself. Nourishing himself on that poison of his every day.

That crimson venom dripping from his fangs as he bit into her life.

But she didn't care anymore. She wasn't doing this for him anymore.

S̷h̷e̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷l̷o̷n̷g̷ ̷l̷o̷s̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷o̷r̷i̷g̷i̷n̷a̷l̷ ̷i̷n̷t̷e̷n̷t̷.̷

B̷u̷t̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷l̷l̷y̷,̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷i̷n̷t̷e̷n̷t̷i̷o̷n̷s̷ ̷n̷o̷w̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷a̷l̷w̷a̷y̷s̷ ̷b̷e̷e̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷r̷e̷,̷ ̷l̷u̷r̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷d̷e̷e̷p̷ ̷d̷o̷w̷n̷ ̷w̷i̷t̷h̷i̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷d̷a̷r̷k̷e̷s̷t̷ ̷c̷r̷e̷v̷i̷c̷e̷s̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷m̷i̷n̷d̷.̷ ̷J̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷i̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷b̷u̷b̷b̷l̷e̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷u̷r̷f̷a̷c̷e̷.̷

Her routine poisonings had begun to feel almost comforting to her, in some form. Because at the very least, it was something she had control over. She could control her own degradation e̷x̷c̷e̷p̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷k̷n̷e̷w̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷p̷r̷o̷g̷r̷e̷s̷s̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷t̷ ̷a̷n̷ ̷u̷n̷c̷o̷n̷t̷r̷o̷l̷l̷e̷d̷ ̷r̷a̷t̷e̷.̷ She was doing this to herself. No one else was. She took a sense of pride in that, a sense of power, a sense of control.

Control. She needed control. She couldn't control her own mortality, she couldn't control her brother and his behavior. This pernicious potion was the only way to control anything, she thought...

So what if her health was deteriorating? She had every right to make it deteriorate.

T̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷r̷i̷g̷h̷t̷

"(Feel better...?) Is it... a cure or something...?"

The inquiry snapped her out of her blissful thought, but she didn't look at him. She just thought:

He was right about that one thing: That this was, to her, more nostrum than noxious in the grand scheme of things.

She'd prescribed it herself to her own heart, the one true remedy for its malaise: Her own personal, hand-crafted, home-brewed panacea.

This would make everything better.

And so, she answered accordingly:

"Yes..."

"(...well, guess I shouldn't be surprised about medicine tasting bad...) Sis... I-"

"Sh-Shut up..."

Her head snapped to look at him a̷n̷d̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷h̷u̷r̷t̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷m̷u̷c̷h̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷m̷a̷k̷e̷ ̷s̷u̷c̷h̷ ̷a̷ ̷s̷u̷d̷d̷e̷n̷ ̷m̷o̷v̷e̷m̷e̷n̷t̷,̷ a̷n̷d̷ she ̷i̷g̷n̷o̷r̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷g̷u̷i̷l̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷e̷n̷ ̷s̷h̷i̷n̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷e̷y̷e̷s̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ glared as she panted out:

"Get out... of my room... I'm done, talking... and, give me back, my vial, now...! *gasp* And then get out...!!"

She held out her hand. S̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷'̷v̷e̷ ̷p̷o̷i̷n̷t̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷d̷o̷o̷r̷ ̷w̷i̷t̷h̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷t̷r̷u̷s̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷l̷e̷g̷s̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷k̷e̷e̷p̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷m̷s̷e̷l̷v̷e̷s̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷n̷d̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷i̷r̷ ̷o̷w̷n̷,̷ ̷w̷i̷t̷h̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷p̷r̷o̷p̷p̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷s̷e̷l̷f̷ ̷u̷p̷ ̷s̷t̷i̷l̷l̷.̷ Vampire Cookie looked at her d̷e̷j̷e̷c̷t̷e̷d̷l̷y̷ before making his way toward the door, handing her the vial as he walked past but otherwise not stopping to look back...

Until he was at the door.

Just before he left through it, just before he could give her privacy, he looked back at her and said:

"...Could... could you at least... air out the room a little...? I-I just noticed that it's a little... I don't know, mephitic in here...? And you know I'll be able to smell this from-"

"Out...!!

"(...I-I'm sorry...)"

He shut the door, leaving her alone to her own devices in her ill-lit, shadow-casted room where the curtains hadn't been touched in days. She sighed.

'Finally. Almost thought he'd never go away...'

Now there was nothing keeping her from her precious elixir of d̷e̷a̷t̷h̷ life... so-to-speak. 

She didn't want to miss a dose. S̷h̷e̷ ̷r̷a̷t̷i̷o̷n̷a̷l̷i̷z̷e̷d̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷a̷d̷,̷ one should never skip even just a day's dose of their medication, after all. It just wasn't healthy...

S̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷l̷l̷y̷ ̷b̷e̷c̷o̷m̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷n̷ ̷a̷d̷d̷i̷c̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷o̷w̷n̷.̷ ̷A̷d̷d̷i̷c̷t̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷o̷w̷n̷ ̷m̷i̷s̷e̷r̷y̷.̷ ̷P̷u̷s̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷w̷a̷y̷,̷ ̷h̷i̷t̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷w̷a̷y̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷v̷e̷r̷y̷ ̷i̷d̷e̷a̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷r̷e̷l̷i̷e̷f̷.̷ ̷S̷h̷e̷ ̷d̷i̷d̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷n̷ ̷d̷o̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷t̷h̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷m̷o̷r̷e̷,̷ ̷p̷a̷s̷s̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷h̷r̷o̷u̷g̷h̷ ̷l̷i̷f̷e̷ ̷d̷e̷v̷o̷i̷d̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷p̷a̷s̷s̷i̷o̷n̷,̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷p̷a̷s̷s̷i̷o̷n̷-̷ ̷o̷n̷c̷e̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷d̷r̷e̷a̷m̷e̷d̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷m̷a̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷g̷r̷e̷a̷t̷ ̷d̷i̷s̷c̷o̷v̷e̷r̷i̷e̷s̷,̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷ ̷n̷o̷w̷ ̷w̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷k̷n̷o̷w̷l̷e̷d̷g̷e̷ ̷c̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷l̷d̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷a̷ ̷m̷i̷n̷d̷ ̷t̷o̷o̷ ̷t̷i̷r̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷n̷k̷.̷.̷.̷?̷ ̷S̷h̷e̷ ̷r̷e̷m̷i̷n̷d̷e̷d̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷s̷e̷l̷f̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷m̷u̷c̷h̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷b̷r̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷:̷ ̷D̷r̷i̷n̷k̷i̷n̷g̷,̷ ̷d̷o̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷n̷o̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷,̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷d̷e̷c̷a̷y̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷r̷o̷o̷m̷;̷ ̷D̷o̷z̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷o̷f̷f̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷d̷r̷e̷a̷m̷l̷e̷s̷s̷ ̷s̷l̷e̷e̷p̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷w̷a̷i̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷f̷o̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷d̷o̷o̷m̷;̷ ̷H̷a̷r̷d̷l̷y̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷r̷ ̷l̷e̷a̷v̷i̷n̷g̷,̷ ̷b̷a̷r̷e̷l̷y̷ ̷l̷i̷v̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷t̷o̷m̷b̷.̷

W̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷a̷ ̷m̷i̷s̷e̷r̷a̷b̷l̷e̷ ̷c̷r̷e̷a̷t̷u̷r̷e̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷.̷ ̷M̷a̷y̷b̷e̷ ̷she deserved this  ̷a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷.̷

Bottoms up.

Over the next few days, she'd stopped keeping at some point. Of how long it had been since she'd started her s̷l̷o̷w̷ ̷m̷a̷r̷c̷h̷ ̷t̷o̷w̷a̷r̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷e̷n̷d̷ experiment. The days were all congealing into a mass of constant f̷a̷t̷i̷g̷u̷e̷ languor, not helped by her now inconsistent sleep schedule... most of her schedule was 'sleep' now, really, or a state between sleep and awake that she couldn't tell the difference between anymore because she just couldn't do anything else and even thinking was becoming too much of an energy sink sometimes.

She didn't even really have the energy to make her meals anymore. Sometimes she was too queasy to stomach anything. Sometimes she struggled to leave her room in the first place. T̷h̷e̷ ̷t̷i̷m̷e̷s̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷d̷o̷n̷e̷ ̷s̷o̷,̷ ̷w̷h̷e̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷h̷u̷n̷g̷e̷r̷ ̷g̷o̷t̷ ̷t̷o̷o̷ ̷m̷u̷c̷h̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷b̷e̷a̷r̷,̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷'̷d̷ ̷n̷o̷t̷i̷c̷e̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷b̷r̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷r̷t̷e̷d̷ ̷w̷a̷i̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷r̷o̷u̷n̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷k̷i̷t̷c̷h̷e̷n̷ ̷m̷o̷r̷e̷.̷ ̷S̷i̷t̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷a̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷t̷a̷b̷l̷e̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷t̷i̷m̷e̷s̷,̷ ̷t̷r̷y̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷c̷o̷a̷x̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷i̷n̷t̷o̷ ̷j̷o̷i̷n̷i̷n̷g̷.̷ ̷"̷A̷r̷e̷ ̷y̷o̷u̷ ̷g̷o̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷k̷e̷e̷p̷ ̷m̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷i̷t̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷f̷o̷r̷ ̷l̷u̷n̷c̷h̷?̷"̷ ̷o̷r̷ ̷"̷D̷o̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷y̷o̷u̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷n̷k̷ ̷a̷ ̷s̷a̷n̷d̷w̷i̷c̷h̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷n̷i̷c̷e̷ ̷r̷i̷g̷h̷t̷ ̷a̷b̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷n̷o̷w̷.̷.̷.̷?̷"̷ ̷.̷.̷.̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷v̷e̷r̷y̷ ̷s̷u̷b̷t̷l̷e̷.̷

.̷.̷.̷o̷n̷e̷ ̷t̷i̷m̷e̷ ̷h̷e̷ ̷g̷o̷t̷ ̷d̷e̷s̷p̷e̷r̷a̷t̷e̷ ̷e̷n̷o̷u̷g̷h̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷t̷r̷y̷ ̷c̷o̷o̷k̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷s̷o̷m̷e̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷.̷ ̷I̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷v̷e̷r̷y̷ ̷g̷o̷o̷d̷,̷ ̷h̷e̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷l̷l̷y̷ ̷h̷a̷d̷ ̷n̷o̷ ̷i̷d̷e̷a̷ ̷h̷o̷w̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷p̷r̷e̷p̷a̷r̷e̷ ̷a̷ ̷s̷a̷l̷a̷d̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷b̷u̷r̷n̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷i̷t̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷r̷ ̷a̷ ̷p̷o̷s̷s̷i̷b̷i̷l̷i̷t̷y̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷e̷s̷p̷e̷c̷i̷a̷l̷l̷y̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷y̷ ̷h̷e̷ ̷d̷i̷d̷ ̷i̷t̷,̷ ̷b̷u̷t̷.̷.̷.̷

The only thing she could easily put down was that burning potion of hers. B̷u̷t̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷f̷i̷n̷d̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷i̷m̷p̷l̷e̷ ̷a̷c̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷s̷w̷a̷l̷l̷o̷w̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷b̷e̷c̷o̷m̷e̷ ̷m̷o̷r̷e̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷m̷o̷r̷e̷ ̷d̷i̷f̷f̷i̷c̷u̷l̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷a̷n̷k̷s̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷e̷r̷ ̷p̷a̷i̷n̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷r̷y̷t̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷b̷o̷d̷y̷.̷

And it was just another late afternoon, who-knows-how-long after this had all began, after her heart had crumbled and fallen apart, and she was about to take her potion again. Up to her mouth, running down her throat...

But she had to spit it out halfway through because she couldn't swallow it.

"ACK!!"

Something was wrong. More wrong than ever before.

It hurt.

It hurt.

She'd never felt more SICK.

She started coughing, forcefully, oxygen making its escape. Her body was trying to expel something. There was something in her that needed to get out.

And it came out.

Onto the floor and her hands as she dropped her flask, causing it to shatter there with the mess of...

Strawberry jam.

Nausea, pain, vertigo- everything was making her head spin, the room was spinning all around her, her vision was doubling, tripling in an instant and she could hardly keep her balance on her feet, her head was growing light and yet it was still heavy with soreness, everything was in pain-

She fell over onto her back. The lights above her looked all the brighter and stung her eyes. She could hardly keep them open; she didn't want to. She was beginning to fade in and out of conscious, anyway. H̷e̷r̷ ̷c̷o̷n̷s̷c̷i̷o̷u̷s̷n̷e̷s̷s̷ ̷w̷a̷s̷ ̷b̷e̷g̷i̷n̷n̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷f̷a̷d̷e̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷b̷e̷i̷n̷g̷,̷ ̷a̷n̷y̷w̷a̷y̷.̷

This was it. The culmination of her experiment: A date alone with death, with toxins flowing through her.

Her crumbled body would lie alone within her room, not to be found for days. Weeks. Months. Years.

...

She was full of fear.

Those leaky eyes of her wouldn't stop, not when this wasn't what she had really wanted, deep down in the crumbled pieces of her heart, though she had long stopped admitting it to herself.

The one thing she'd wanted, needed, was...

Something she'd never get to see herself have, if she were to crumble now.

But she had no way to control the outcome of this. She never had. That cocktail of death had been dooming her every day she drank it. There was no going back.

'This is goodbye...'