I want to turn around, I want to take it back.

I sink down in the tub, letting the water soak into my hair like a sponge. I like the warmth, it feels like the good hugs I ever got and the hugs I never will.

It's dizzying, being in there. I can't tell if it's from the steam still in the room or my head, but either way it makes me feel flushed.

Maybe the bath bomb I threw in the tub adds to it, the scent of rosemary filling my lungs. I don't even think I like rosemary but it doesn't matter.

My eyes start to droop, looking automatically towards the orange bottle left on the sink. It's empty now.

I read once that your body won't let you drown in your sleep, that as soon as your nose goes underwater you'll pop right up, maybe a bit scared, but completely alive. I have a feeling that only applies when the person falling asleep is natural, not from a previously full bottle that should have stayed full.

It's when my eyelids touch and my nose is barely above water I regret it. That even if I wanted to go, it wasn't like that.

Usually that horrifying realization would be the end of the story, the person just feels regret and the urge to go back, but they can't.

But today, this time, I was able to go back because in my struggling, I kicked the drain plug out of it's socket, and the water started to sink around me.

I could breathe. I could scream, so I screamed.