a last resort
The only thing keeping me connected to reality was the slight warm pressure I now felt on my back. Picking up my head, I waited to make sense of what it was. The slight stomping motions let me realize that it was Tibbs, contently pawing his way up my back.
I floated passed the living room and to the back of the apartment. I don't remember uttering a word, but inside I was screaming. My body ached in a way I'd never experienced before, and I knew not even the sharpest object could make it go away. I needed something more this time.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above my dresser. There was no life left in my eyes. They'd gone from auburn to grey. They didn't even glisten with tears anymore. All that remained of them were the darkening circles underneath, and a red trail of sorrow and exhaustion that followed it's way down my ever pale cheeks. I wiped away at a smudge that wasn't really there. I felt things crawling all over my face. The paranoia was setting in. I was suffocating.
I pushed passed the mirror and I didn't stop when it fell to the floor. The shatter of glass radiated throughout my entire body. Adrenaline was flowing. I could feel it pulsing in my finger tips. A smirk curled across my face. I wasn't drowning anymore. I was free.
In the bathroom, I opened the small linen closet next to the shower. Fumbling between the stacks of towels, I found what I was looking for. A long, serrated knife lay quietly beneath the softness. I ran a quick hand along the base of the blade, and grabbed it up. As I noticed myself in queer reflection of the knife, I remembered why I'd stashed it there. A few months earlier I'd attempted suicide, but Torrin intercepted. As a result, she made me throw away any instruments I could use for future attempts, and made me swear never to attempt such a thing again. But she didn't know I hid one that day. I didn't want to, but my will power wasn't strong enough. Just like now. I'm not strong enough. And with Jackson, I wasn't strong enough. Without Jackson, I'm not strong enough.
It was quiet all of a sudden. I needed noise. I turned on the sink and let the water run. Steam began to rise before I went to the shower next. I sat against the shower door and let the room fill with vapor. I closed my eyes and breathed it in as the heat moistened my skin. In my haze I felt my skin soften just enough for the blade to make smooth contact. I disconnected myself as soon as my flesh opened. My wrists ran with red, and I couldn't feel pain anymore. My heart beat faster and faster. My head spun and buzzed with the sounds of running water and screams. I thought of Jackson as the blade met the other wrist; his piercing blue eyes and perfect hands. I felt him cradling me in his big, warm arms. I felt his breath in my ear and on the back of my neck. I heard his voice echoing in my ears.
"I'll never leave, you. You're mine forever."
"You'll never hurt again. I won't let you hurt again."
"I love you more than anything, baby. I'll protect you from your worst thoughts."
Then things faded. The smog faded. The heat faded. Jackson faded. I was alone in dark and cold. I couldn't feel my hands. Everything stopped working, then. I felt nothing, I heard nothing. I was in complete black. Goodbye, my lover. Goodbye everything.
I felt a jolt, but the blackness remains. I felt shaking and pressure. I heard echoes that I couldn't make out. The black was in my way.
More shaking, harder. The echoes came closer and louder. Voices.
"MAEBY! MAEBY! OPEN YOUR EYES!"
Jackson. His hands on my shoulders, shaking me. I couldn't open my eyes.
"MAEBY! WAKE UP! STAY WITH ME!"
"JACKSON! LEAVE HER! SHE'S CRAZY!"
A voice I hadn't heard.
"AMY! CALL FUCKING 911! CHRIST!"
"JACKSON, WE SHOULDN'T BE INVOLVED IN THIS. LET'S GO! SHE'S BEEN BOTHERING US FOR TOO LONG NOW! LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE!"
"I WON'T DO IT, AMY! I WON'T JUST FUCKING LEAVE HER HERE!"
His voice was louder now, and more unstable. I think he was crying. He sound panicked. I wanted to open my eyes and look into his, but I couldn't. The black wouldn't let go of me. I was consumed.
He was cradling me in his arms now. His arms were wrapped around me at the shoulders. My wrists were throbbing and they burned. I moved to speak, but my lips wouldn't move. I was silent.
"JACKSON, LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! NOW!"
He layed me back on the cold tile. His voice was shrill, now. He was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"I WILL NOT LEAVE HER HERE! GIVE ME THE FUCKING PHONE AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! NOW!"
"YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY! SHE'S FUCKING CRAZY! LOOK AT WHAT SHE DID TO HERSELF! TO YOU! TO US!"
But Jackson didn't answer her. He'd already grabbed the phone and started dialing the emergency hotline.
"Yes. I need an ambulance. 217 Harper Avenue. It's the complex on the right hand side. Apartment 4C. Please hurry, she's bleeding!"
"JACKSON, WE'RE GETTING THE FUCK OUT HERE, NOW!"
A thud. Did he push her?
"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, AMY! GO! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, YOU HEARTLESS BITCH!"
Jackson was sobbing now. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was losing it. If I could move I would've put a hand out to touch him. I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me, but I was glad he was there. That way, if I went, he was the last thing I'd remember.
He sat there with me on the floor, keeping my wrist wrapped and applying pressure. He held me so close I felt the heartbeat in his throat against my cheek. He didn't say anything else, he just stayed. And when the other voices arrived he only let go of me long enough to be moved onto what I made out to be a stretcher. He held my hand on the way outside. But he was talking to someone else.
"Tor? It's Jacks. Maeby's had an accident. I'm on the way to the hospital now. Tor...I think she tried to kill herself. We'll be at St. John's. I'll meet you in the waiting area once we get her settled."
I don't remember what happened after that. The voices stopped. When I opened my eyes, finally, I was lying in a white room. I could move my arms and legs, but barely. I was weak. I could've spoken, but my mouth was so dry. I couldn't even wet my lips. It was so bright.
I looked down at my wrists. They were bandaged to all hell, but you could see the bruising along where the knife had cut. Everything was quiet and I was alone.
I wanted to cry.