Chap. 2- Over the edge and hanging by a thread
By: Oracle73191
AN- Wasn't sure if I was going to continue this one but... I got bored during Spanish and Government and this is the result..
Disclaimer- not mine...don't sue I am 14 and all I own is my black belt and this computer...
FLASHBACK
"What is this Mimi?" He was holding my escape while staring at me intently. You could always tell his moods by his eyes. He wasn't angry, his eyes weren't clouded.
He was just lost, hopelessly and totally lost. He wanted to believe that I could quit for him. He had overestimated me. They all had.
"Please baby its just one hit... Please? JUST ONE!" It had been 2 days without a hit. And I couldn't take it much longer... "You don't understand baby.. its so hard...
I can't do this!" That had been what set him off... How could I have forgotten?
His eyes instantly went cloudy. NOW he was upset. "How can you say that I don't understand? Did you forget, Mimi? I spent months in the loft, just trying to stop shaking! Don't you DARE tell ME I don't know how it is? Have you found someone you loved soaked with their own blood recently? Maybe if you would stop whoring yourself out for a needle and powder and THOUGHT for a moment you would remember that your shit KILLS people." He was panting heavily now... God why did I have to make him think of her? I never do anything right...
"Roger why don't you just leave... I'm not worth it." I was sobbing now... he no longer looked pissed as hell... he looked exhausted... like he hadn't slept in days. I guess he hadn't, he was too busy making sure I didn't leave the loft. His voice was now soft...
"Don't say that. Ever. You are worth all of this and more. Keep trying baby... we'll help you. Mark said he would help me. He's done this before. We'll get through this together ok? I promise."
PRESENT
But... he had given up. Not that I can say I blame him. I am such a screw up. Bile starts to burn in my throat and I race for the bathroom. I grasp either side of the broken sink and look at my reflection.
My hair was matted to my forehead in sweaty knots. My face was pale, I felt like shit. I haven't eaten in three days and I don't even remember the last time I took my AZT. The funny thing is...
I have no desire to take it. I am perfectly content to waste away here without him. I don't want to live. I need out... I am NOT gonna wait for things to get worse.
Worse? I think while laughing hysterically. It can't get worse... the only question now is how? Gun? Too expensive. Overdose? I don't have nearly enough and that death was too painful for me.
Laughing even harder I grab a razor. It's the perfect end. Just like the girl before me.
It's beautiful. So inviting. It's screaming at me "TWO CUTS. JUST TWO AND IT WILL ALL BE OVER." It's almost taunting me... My laughter continues as I start to sob. I lift the blade high over my wrist.
Which one first? Which way is it again? Horizontal...Closing my eyes the blades rushes down to my awaiting skin...I can hear myself scream. One down... One more to go.
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