Chapter 3: In The Bathroom

Ephram took another shard of glass and sat on the bathroom floor. With his back leaning against the side of the bathtub, he stared at the piece of glass again. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Perhaps he was waiting for someone to stop him. But the phone was not ringing and the doorbell silent. Let's face it, no one knew where he was and what he was about to do. It was hardly noon and everyone was either at work or school. He doubted anyone would check their email this early. He put the shard of glass down beside him. He sat there for half an hour.

He looked at the wound on his palm from his cut earlier. Dried blood was starting to form. It really didn't hurt as much when the pain wasn't throbbing. When he hurt himself, the physical pain overtook the mental pain. It worked like a charm. But as soon as the pain subsided, his dark thoughts returned. Nobody was going to come for him. Ephram pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt enough to reveal his bony wrists. He stared at the blue veins under his skin and wondered how deep he had to go to cut something vital. He picked up the piece of glass again. Holding it in his left hand, he trembled as he made his first cut.

Impatiently, he didn't feel pain at all. But all he needed was to give it a few seconds. Small driplets of blood surfaced from the cut at a super slow pace. Great, I didn't go deep enough, he thought. He decided to try it again. With his left hand, he gashed his right wrist just two centimeters away from his initial cut. This time, the glass went deeper than the first attempt. He felt a deep surge of pain shoot up his arm and into his back. He let out a cry. Dark red blood spewed out of the wound and onto his jeans, eventually making it's way to the beige tiles beneath him.

He got scared watching the blood spilling out of his wrist. The blood dripped all over his hands and clothes. There was a small puddle of blood forming on the tiles. A few teardrops fell from his eyes and mixed with the blood. He took the shard of glass in this left hand and tried to slash his right wrist. The tears blurred his vision. He had to make three cuts before he was satisfied. Since his hands shoke so badly, he wasn't sure if he went deep enough the first two times. Shit, I forgot to get in the tub, he thought. But it was too late for that now. He began to feel extremely tired almost instantly. He rested his head on the edge of the tub. Closing his eyes, his mind started drifting and he fainted. The blood continued to spew from his listless hands.

Ephram awoke to the sound of a strange noise. His brain was all fuzzy. It sounded like a soft bleeping in the distant. When his head cleared a bit, he realized it was the phone ringing in the hall. Someone must've read his email! Someone cared! He thought. Part of him wanted to go and pick it up but he was in too much pain and dizziness to move from his position. He gave up and just lay there waiting to die.

** end of chapter 3 **