Carla's Cide - The Half

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"You have reached the residence of: Heidi Statton. They are unable to take your call at this moment, so please leave a message, after the beep."

-Beeeep-

"... H-hi, Ben. It's me. Sorry to call you at your sisters place. I know she never really... approved of me. I don't know where you are at the moment, but I hope you're safe. You left in such I hurry I was... really worried.

I know you're angry at me. I know you must being feeling hurt... and betrayed... and I'm so sorry. So very, very sorry. I've said it so many times before, but I want you to understand how deeply I mean it. You helped me in some of the darkest times of my life; pulled me kicking and screaming through them to the other side. You sacrificed so much over the course of our relationship, just to see a smile on my face.

And how did I repay you? Hah... by going out and... and... being unfaithful. In my head, I thought it was because you were too kind to me. I told myself it was your fault. But that was a lie. It wasn't you. It was all me.

Something's wrong with me, Ben. I'm not well. My mind is... sick. I can't explain, because I don't really understand it myself. But I do know that whatever it is, it's dangerous. I've become a danger to all those around me. I don't want to be, but I can't seem to stop it.

I can't live that way. I can't go through the rest of my life, afraid of being near the ones I love. And I can't beat... him. He's just too strong! There's only one way out. I have to protect you, even if it might just seem like a cheap, last ditch way to make up for my betrayal.

I'm sorry, Ben. For everything. Please don't be sad. You made my life far happier then I deserved. I hope you can forgive me... and please, don't forget me.

I really do love you, Ben.

...Goodbye."

-Beeeep-

"Message: End"

-----

Carla hit the off button on the phone and paused to wipe her face. It was done. In a way, she felt she'd made her peace. She was ready to go.

Placing the mobile on the floor, she raised her foot and stomped on it fiercely. A small crack appeared on the screen, but little else. She let out an angry cry, and stamped on it again. And then again. She didn't stop till the tears had nearly dried up, and pieces of plastic were spread all over the carpet. It was a bitter sweet relief, and in some way, revenge as well.

Falling back on the sofa again, she sniffed and put a hand against her head. That was that. There was little else left for her, other then deciding how to do it. She hadn't given it much thought.

When you decide you want to die, you start to see the world differently. Just looking around the kitchen, Carla saw an almost endless supply of life terminating objects. Knives. Gas. A range of cleaning supplies. Nothing really appealed to her, but then, what did one look for when considering a situation like this?

Speedy? Painless? Effective? The last thing she wanted was to get half way through the deed, only to pass out and awaken in a hospital somewhere. Brain damaged to an even greater extent, mayhap. Possibly even a vegetable. She couldn't handle that.

Shaking her head, she got up off the sofa. No, she was going to have to be thorough. She didn't like pain, but whatever was necessary. Perhaps it was time to consider some more tried-but-true techniques? Slowly, almost dragging her feet, she made her way up the hallway.

She really needed a bath.

-

The taps squeaked as she turned them off; something she'd meant to fix numerous times. Warm steam rose from the bath, and Carla ran her hands gently over the water's surface. She'd always enjoyed baths, just like she had rain. Now everything was... different.

'Well, I've gotten this far,' she thought. 'Now what?'

She still half expected Captain Nature to appear at any moment, to throw her back into the void and start living her life. But there'd been no sign of him yet. No static or pain. She was alone, the question was; how long for?

Shrugging off her pyjama bottoms, she kicked them to one side. Her top soon followed. Carefully, she slid into the warm bath water... though the concept of 'careful' at the moment almost made her smile. There was so much she could ignore now, it was like a forbidden freedom revealed.

Bubbles floated up around her cheeks, popping softly and tickling her nose, and she allowed herself a soft sigh. It was comforting. Not a bad place to go, really. But how? She sunk lower in the water so that her nose was only barely above it.

Breathe in? Feel her lungs with liquid? She'd heard somewhere that humans had some kind of safety switch when it came to holding your breath or trying to drown. Like, unless you had help or ensured that you'd stay down, your brain would basically force you to surface again. She didn't like the idea of drowning anyway. She'd always been slightly claustrophobic.

What else? She looked around the bathroom, searched for alternate methods. To tell the truth, short of slipping and cracking ones head open, there wasn't much in there.

And then she saw Ben's razor.

It sat quietly at the end of the bath, among the shampoos and soaps. She couldn't help but flinch, even if the possibility was completely real to her. Tried-but-true? That was definitely the case. But did she have the will power for such a task?

Fingers trembling slightly, she leaned forward and picked up the seemingly innocent piece of plastic and sharp metal. So small, yet the cause of so many willingly ended lives. Would she join them? Become another floating corpse in a bath soaked in blood?

She shook the image from her mind. That didn't matter. This was for a more important reason. She had to be strong. She placed the razor against her left wrist, and bit her lip.

'Do it,' she yelled in her head. 'Don't be pathetic. I have to do it. For Ben. Think of him.'

The hand holding the razor trembled, her breathing became quicker. It would hurt though. She didn't want it to hurt. And it wasn't even very quick. She'd remembered a chronic depressive school friend saying that it was just like getting really tired and falling asleep: at least there was that. But still... she just couldn't seem to bring herself to move... that... hand...

A small crack of distant lightning made her coiled nerves snap, and she cried out in surprise. Her hand slipped, making the razor nick the side of her wrist. Blood instantly began to ooze out.

"Aaahhhh... fuck!" she yelled, squinting her eyes shut. Goddam, it hurt like a bitch! She opened her eyes and looked at the wound.

A small piece of flesh was missing, and a thin trickle of blood ran into the bath water. She'd missed the vein by a good inch. It was nothing more then a scratch.

"Screw it," she said through clenched teeth, getting out of the bath tub and splashing blood tinged water onto the floor. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, then pulled some toilet paper off the holder. Still biting her lip from the sting, she sat on the toilet lid and dabbed at the wound.

Hopeless. Completely hopeless. The slightest bit of pain and she'd fled like a frightened puppy. How did she expect to go through with a plan like this with that attitude?

"Dammit," she hissed. She got up and walked to the mirror-cabinet. If she didn't want to die by tetanus, she might as well disinfect it. Opening the cabinet, she began to rummage through the various hygiene and first aid supplies, looking for a band aid or a wash. Something temporary. There was no need for long term prevention, after all. Her hand froze when she saw the small collection of bottles near the back.

Sleeping pills.

Back about six months ago, she and Ben had comes across some financial difficulty. Carla had lost her job at the supermarket due to forced redundancies, and Ben's apprenticeship had not yet been completed. They were surviving on mere pitons a week. The stress of such a small income and what lay in their future started to have an affect on Ben, and at some point during their hardship he'd developed insomnia.

Carla used to wake up at four in the morning, the bed beside her empty. She'd go into the lounge room, only to find Ben lying on the couch like a zombie, flicking through an endless display of late night shopper shows. This only made matters worse, as he was often too tired to focus on his work.

Doctors prescribed him a series of different medicines, most unsuccessful. And when they finally found one that worked, Carla had started her job at Icthy Fishy and Ben had finally been able to nod off each night.

As a result, a small amount of near-full tranquilizers and assorted sleep inducers now sat unused in the bathroom cabinet. Carla stared at them. It was perfect.

There'd be no pain. No waiting around. And if anyone found her; little chance of revival. She'd simply lose consciousness and never wake up. Quick, clean, and quiet.

Grabbing the bottles, she took the lid off each one and looked inside. Full. Fullish. Full. Almost empty. But more then enough to do the job three times over, she suspected. She sat back down on the toilet, the bottles held firmly in her hands. The labels read all kinds of warnings.

"Danger: Do not exceed daily dosage / may cause irritation of / do not operate heavy machinery / if insomnia persists / lack of breath / skin rash / drowsiness / headaches / nausea.../...death."

Carla stared at the word, printed in plain sight at the bottom of the labels. 'Excessive consumption may cause permanent damage, internal haemorrhaging, or death.' Carla swallowed and pulled the towel further up towards her neck. Well, if the experts said so...

Getting up, she headed towards the sink and placed the bottles on the side. She picked up the toothbrush cup and tipped the brushes into the bin. She'd never need them again. Then she turned on the tap and began to fill the cup with water.

'Here we go,' she thought, picking the first pill out of a bottle. It was small, triangular and purple. It'd be cute if its purpose hadn't now seemed so sinister. She popped it in her mouth and immediately washed it down, not wanting to taste that bitter, rancid flavour all pills seemed to have. It went down pretty easy.

"One down," she said aloud. More to go.

-----

Carla slammed into the hallway wall, hearing her shoulder click but not feeling the pain. Her breathing sounded abnormally loud. The world was on a tilt.

She'd only made it halfway through the pills before she'd begun to feel strange. A dizziness like she'd been inhaling noxious fumes set in, and a wave of nausea had almost made her bring all her hard work back up. When she'd looked at the bathroom light, she found she could actually see the beams. White and gold strands of light, linked together by pretty warping rainbows. But looking up had made her feel nauseous again, so she'd stopped that.

Groggily, she'd managed to put her pyjamas back on. The last thing she wanted was neighbours, police or - what she feared most of all - Ben breaking down the door and finding her lying naked on the floor. It would just be embarrassing.

The bathroom took on a sharp slant, and she found herself hanging onto the door frame to keep from slipping down. It was very inconvenient; what if the bath water tipped out? It would make a horrible mess. She'd just made it into the hallway when the floor had tipped the other way, making her slam into the wall.

She held her shoulder now, wondering if perhaps it had dislocated. No, she could move it. It was fine. She just needed to get to the lounge room. She stretched both arms out either side of her for balance, and began to stagger down the hallway. There were unusual rises in the carpet that looked like speed-humps. She didn't know why. She wasn't moving that quickly.

Carla finally made it to the lounge room doorway and pulled herself inside. The TV was still off. She let out a grunt of disappointment.

Where was he? She wanted to rub his face in it, take that horrible confident smirk of his face. Standing there with his manly chin and rippling chest. Smug bastard. Where had he run too?

The room started to rotate to her left, and Carla began to lose her balance. She staggered over to the sofa and attempted to sit on the cushions. It merely tipped up and spat her off, making her fall ungracefully onto floor. Apparently it didn't approve of being sat on.

Oh well, the carpet would do fine. Carla leaned forwards as the soft, green fibres rushed up to hold her. Hug her. Keep her warm. She rubbed her face against it, smiling. It was very comfortable.

The world was sideways now. She could see the hallway light through the lounge room door, sparkling like a star. The colours were beautiful. She wanted to touch them. She stuck out a groping hand, reaching, reaching. She found it amazing how far she could stretch; her arm slithered towards the doorway, warping like a vengeful snake.

'This is crazy,' she thought, feeling a small piece of normality swim through her head. She tried to grab that too, but it slipped through her fingers like jelly. 'Is it supposed to happen this fast?' Obviously warning labels were there for a reason. Maybe if the world read them more often, it wouldn't be in such a mess.

Her snake arm had given up the reach for the light now. She'd lost interest anyway; the light no longer looked as pretty. Actually, it was dimming. Only the bulb itself still seemed to glow. Carla found that her thoughts weren't working quite as fast as before. In fact, everything seemed to be slowing down. Her breathing. The rotating floor. Even the heartbeat in her ears sounded lazy.

'Going at last,' she thought. 'Now they'll be safe. Everyone will be safe. And he didn't stop me. He couldn't... stop me..."

Everything went black.