They deserve it all.

Naloxone

Note: Hi, I hope everything has been good until now. This chapter is one with many TWs again. Such as overdosing, drugs use, addiction, death, bad parents and grieving.
There is another TW, I'm not very good at warning as much because most of the stuff I write doesn't trigger me, but in this chapter there will be a victim of drugs use and a person who finds that victim OD-ing and tries to safe them. If that in any way is triggering to anyone at all due to personal experiences or something else which I completely understand, I will note what happened in this chapter at the end in a small summary so you don't miss out and also don't have to read something that triggers you too much.
Enjoy :).

"Emmaline!" I rush through the open doors of her house. Her clothes are scattered on the floor, it paves the path she wondered in her house. She tried to reach the bathroom, but she fell right before she could even open the door. Instead she's laying there on the ground.

I fall on my knees and hold her hand.

"Emmy— what happened?!"

She smiles a sloppy smile. "Willy ..." Her voice is soft, like a whisper. And she laughs. "Willy, that's a funny name, like a willy nilly, or something they say in the UK, I think, or in America, I don't know—"

"Did you ..." I look around until I find a small zip lock bag. It's right there, an empty, licked clean zip lock bag. "Emmy ..."

She frowns, her hand lifting only so much in the air. "You don't get to be mad at me, Willy, I know it's- it's messed up, but you don't get to be mad at me." Her voice is delayed, she speaks so slowly and it's until I feel her grip on my hand weaken that I get really really worried.

"Emmy ..." I let her hand go to grab my phone out of my pocket, but she stops me.

"No cops, please." Her hand is lifted in the air again, how much energy that must take. "Please?"

I don't put the phone down and begin dialing the first 2 numbers. "No cops, just people that will help you. They'll help you."

"No. No people. No cops." She begins to lose consciousness, so I keep onto her. I don't shake her as that could freak her out, but I hold her face.

"Emmy, don't do this. Stay awake!"

She smiles before she turns pale and her head becomes just that much heavier. I panic and softly put her down.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I know what to do. I don't know what to do. I know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to— her suitcase!

I rush to her suitcase hidden in her closet. I look inside but everything is mixed up. I remember I had categorized everything with her.

What if she already used it? What if it's too late?!

It's not. Just keep your eyes in there, you'll find the naloxone behind the bag of MDMA. It should be there. But it's not there! Fuck! Just throw it over, you'll hear the glass clink.

And I do and I find it. I take the glass bottle and search for an needle. I shake my head as I can only find a used one and end up having no other choice. I don't breathe while I'm trying my best to quickly get the liquid in the needle compartment. When I'm done I throw the glass bottle on the floor and it makes a loud sound, I don't look at what happened with it, I just run to Emmaline with the needle and stick it in her upper arm. I squeeze it empty and hold her head high. She's still breathing, just not moving.

So I keep with her. I grab a blanket and I warm us up on this cold floor. I keep my hands wrapped around her, I'm shaking, but she's still not moving.

It's been too long ... she should be awake by now.