The shot did ring out down the hall, letting the whole world know just
where I was laying. It did not, however, let them see the slow bleeding
inside, the blood of emotion that seeped like the sap of the maple tree,
slow and oozing, reluctant to leave.
Hands were shaking, but I found the gun on the floor, as I'd dropped it at the shot, not even realizing anything about that moment.
Only the feverish pulling of the trigger.
The fall.
...the miss.
It's as if my own life was sliding away as the days pass, as if I feel I should die, or if I'm dead already.
Maybe I am.
There's a knock on the door then, loud - insistent. Panicked.
It took longer than I thought, but I know who it is - that only makes the tears come harder.
Heaving sobs break me down even more, and I whimper, gasping for breath.
I wish I wouldn't have missed.
"Hailey, you open this door right now, or I swear to god I'm going to break it down." There was no plea. Simply an order, edged with worry, and a couple loud thuds.
He wasn't going to quit until that door was off its hinges.
I crawl, slowly, to the door, pulling myself up just enough to click the lock open, then slide to meet the floor again, shaking violently.
The door swings open, handle banging against the wall, nearly swinging back around - he doesn't seem to notice though, a hand moving to push it back away as he kneels, checking to see if I'm bleeding, if I'd shot myself...
He doesn't know how close I came to actually doing such.
"Where does it hurt?" Randy keeps asking, arms tight around me, voice nigh above a whisper. He knows there's pain somewhere, but.. "Tell me, Hai, where's it hurt?"
"You can't fix it." I want to push him away, tell him to get as far away from me as he possibly can, but at this point, I'm too weak to do so -
His gaze wanders from me to the blast in the wall, and brows furrow, a soft sigh escaping when he does put it all together.
"Don't. Princess..." Princess. Even though I had stopped crying for the moment, the word brought tears to my eyes once more, and I fell in his arms, not even fussing slightly when he moved me onto the bed, fingers combing through messy hair.
"A few more days. Just a few more, and everything will be okay."
I know he's trying to get me to feel better, trying to keep me from imploding.
It got harder every day.
"You disappeared, and then I heard the shot, and...oh my god, you don't know how much I freaked out..."
This is the weight that had kept me from ending it. This -
"A few more days. It'll be over, then?" My voice shakes, uncertain.
We were all so certain once, weren't we? Then the world shakes us all to the core.
Sometimes, it's just worse.
I didn't get any reassurance.
Hands were shaking, but I found the gun on the floor, as I'd dropped it at the shot, not even realizing anything about that moment.
Only the feverish pulling of the trigger.
The fall.
...the miss.
It's as if my own life was sliding away as the days pass, as if I feel I should die, or if I'm dead already.
Maybe I am.
There's a knock on the door then, loud - insistent. Panicked.
It took longer than I thought, but I know who it is - that only makes the tears come harder.
Heaving sobs break me down even more, and I whimper, gasping for breath.
I wish I wouldn't have missed.
"Hailey, you open this door right now, or I swear to god I'm going to break it down." There was no plea. Simply an order, edged with worry, and a couple loud thuds.
He wasn't going to quit until that door was off its hinges.
I crawl, slowly, to the door, pulling myself up just enough to click the lock open, then slide to meet the floor again, shaking violently.
The door swings open, handle banging against the wall, nearly swinging back around - he doesn't seem to notice though, a hand moving to push it back away as he kneels, checking to see if I'm bleeding, if I'd shot myself...
He doesn't know how close I came to actually doing such.
"Where does it hurt?" Randy keeps asking, arms tight around me, voice nigh above a whisper. He knows there's pain somewhere, but.. "Tell me, Hai, where's it hurt?"
"You can't fix it." I want to push him away, tell him to get as far away from me as he possibly can, but at this point, I'm too weak to do so -
His gaze wanders from me to the blast in the wall, and brows furrow, a soft sigh escaping when he does put it all together.
"Don't. Princess..." Princess. Even though I had stopped crying for the moment, the word brought tears to my eyes once more, and I fell in his arms, not even fussing slightly when he moved me onto the bed, fingers combing through messy hair.
"A few more days. Just a few more, and everything will be okay."
I know he's trying to get me to feel better, trying to keep me from imploding.
It got harder every day.
"You disappeared, and then I heard the shot, and...oh my god, you don't know how much I freaked out..."
This is the weight that had kept me from ending it. This -
"A few more days. It'll be over, then?" My voice shakes, uncertain.
We were all so certain once, weren't we? Then the world shakes us all to the core.
Sometimes, it's just worse.
I didn't get any reassurance.
