The woman sighed as she slumped back against the wall of her apartment. Her right hand wrapped around the base of the bottle sitting next to her. She swiftly brought it to her lips, before tilting it back and chugging the clear liquid down. She gulped down half the bottle of Tequila, finally bringing it away from her lips. She was thankful when her mind began to cloud from the effects of the alcohol. She needed it to help her escape the pain she lived with day in and day out. Her head fell forward into her hands, and she let loose the tears she had been so desperately trying to keep in.
The memories and thoughts of her past threatened to consume her. She closed her eyes, hoping that for a brief second she would be able to get away from them. For that short amount of time she was able to free herself, and then they all came rushing back as soon as her eyes opened again.
Her cries got louder as images of her father plagued her mind. He was the one that had caused her so much distress. He had killed her mother with his bare hands. He had chocked her until she was gasping for air; eventually the life left her mother's body.
And she was alone. She was left to take the wrath of her father. He kept her a prisoner in her own house. He would drink himself to drunkenness. He would hit her constantly, throwing her around. He would rape her, no matter how many times she pleaded with him. He told her that if she ever told anyone, he would find her and choke her, just like he did to her mother. He said he would enjoy killing her; he would laugh as he squeezed the last bit of life out of her.
She was snapped out of the horrid memories her mind would replay, when a faint buzzing sound could be heard throughout the room. She picked herself up off of the floor, walking towards her bed. She plopped down upon it with the bottle still in her hand. She finally got her tears to stop flowing down her cheeks. She tilted her head to look to the end table. The buzzing sound had been her phone ringing. A small genuine smile spread across her lips as she saw who it was. Fin was calling her. He was her best friend. Her smile suddenly faded.
She hated lying to Fin.
She hated telling him everything was fine, when she was hurting so much inside.
She hated living a lie, pretending she was the happy, respectable M.E. everyone thought she was.
Hot, salty tears began to once again fall from her eyes. Her buzzing phone was long forgotten as she suddenly reached for the drawer of the end table. Inside the drawer was a razor blade. She tentatively picked it up. She placed the bottle of alcohol on the end table before looking at the blade in her hands. She clutched it in her right hand, softly placing it on the delicate skin of her wrist. A chocked sob escaped from her as she made a cut across her flesh. Blood began to pour out of the cut. As it flowed out, her pain went with it.
The buzzing started again, and she placed the sheet around her over the wound. She watched as the crimson liquid stained the white linen. Pulling the sheet away from the cut that had finally stopped bleeding, she reached for the bottle. She drank most of it, trying desperately not to feel anything. She dropped it while trying to place it back on the table. The glass shattered when it hit the ground, littering the carpeted floor with crystals of glass.
She couldn't take it anymore. She dug the razor into her arm once again. A little deeper and she would be able to kill herself. She would finally be able to be free from this life.
But she was a coward.
She wouldn't do it.
She wasn't strong enough to end the pain.
She feared death.
As much as she wanted it, she still feared it.
Her head snapped up when a knock sounded at her door. She remained quiet. Hoping that whoever it was went away. That is until she heard his voice. "Melinda, are you home? You said you'd come over tonight to watch the game with me." Fin said from the other side of the door.
Melinda silently cursed herself. She had forgotten about that. She quickly placed the sheet over her other cut, praying he wouldn't use his key to get in. Her prayers went unanswered when the click of the door lock rung through the apartment. She knew it would be inevitable, he would find her sitting here like this.
What would he think of her?
Would he be disgusted that she would do that to herself?
Would he hate her for never telling him the truth, for lying to him all these years?
Her questions would be answered soon because he turned the knob to her bedroom door. He silently took in the sight before him. A beautiful, disheveled woman sitting on her bed, tears and pain were shown through her dark brown eyes. A razor blade was clutched in her palm, she was surrounded with blood stained sheets, and a broken bottle of Tequila lay on the floor beside her.
She quickly looked away from him, not wanting to see his face right now. She felt ashamed. Why did Fin have to find out this way? She kept her head down until she felt a dip in the bed when Fin sat down on it in front of her. He looked into her tear filled eyes, seeing everything in them.
"Melinda," He muttered softly. Then she felt his lips on hers. He kissed her sweetly, taking the blade from her hand and placing it on the table. He continued to kiss her. The kiss was filled with more than just love and compassion.
It was a promise.
A promise that she would never have to face her inner demons alone.
A promise to love her unconditionally.
A promise that he would never abandon her, he'd be right there with her through everything.
And that was all she had ever wanted.
AN: So this is a rewrite of my story Save Me from Myself. I'm not sure if I like this one though. Could you please leave me a review? It would make me very happy.
-Payton :)