Chapter 9- Dramatic
-Aleeysha-
Across both my wrists, for my mom and dad; across the inside of my elbows, for my brother and sister; across my thighs, for my home and for my friends, I dug the knife deep into me. It hurt but not nearly as much as what they represent. Red was the only colour I see. I looked down on myself, mutilated and bloody and it felt good to finally show what I felt on the outside. It was all because of the war, because it took everything that gave me a reason to live, but I won't let it take me too. I'll take my own life.
Sharp pain; I had put the knife against my neck. My hands were shaking and tears blurred my vision. I couldn't do it. It had gone against everything I used to believe it, when everything hadn't gone wrong. I would take my life before the war did, but I still couldn't force my hand. My energy was dripping away with my blood. I was too weak.
There was one simple way. The Darren's were about to leave our trashed city. Darren. I had a fleeting thought about him. How he cheated on me, and then abandoned me, a year ago. He was long gone, probably still in America, happy with another girl.
I had made my decision. If my whole family was to die from the war, then I should follow in their league. There was no death, that was decent for my family but not for me. With the last bit of my energy I dragged myself in front of the oncoming vehicles.
For a second everything froze, and then pain exploded in the back of my mind. Darkness swam in my vision. I knew I was going to pass out and they were going to kill me. Satisfaction. I almost smiled if only had enough energy.
-Darren-
It was almost like the earth stopped spinning. Everyone watched Aleeysha hit the floor. We didn't kill her on sight because we were supposed have at least carnage as possible, because how could you rule a country when half of its population is dead? No one saw her as threat, because there was no way she could fend off all of us. But the real reason no one killed her, was even through the dirt and grime her beauty shone through.
Blood. It was smeared all over her. Why hadn't I noticed before? Jacob's blow wouldn't leave her that bloody. She was hurt; and it was that notion that broke me out of my reverie. I got out of the vehicle and dropped on my knees. I took her hand; there was a dark red line across her wrists, and elbows. Blood seeped out from her thighs. Oh God, what has she done to herself?
I dropped her quickly and stood to my knees, backing away from her. It was all too much. What was she even doing her? Why had she cut herself? Was she suicidal? If I hadn't abandoned her, would I be able to save her? Was she with the Jordan's? Was it my fault? Was she even alive?
"Medics! We need medics for her now!" I panicked. I was backing away, still. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to see her here like this.
Something thumped me on the back. Jacob. He was always there to keep me grounded. "Hey, are you all right?"
"I—she's—is-?" I cleared my throat from the jumbled sentences. "She's going to live right?"
"I don't know, man. She lost a lot of blood. You know her?"
"Yeah."
Jacob looked slightly disturbed. "You were in love with a Jordan?"
"I didn't know she was a Jordan, we met in America. Who said I was in love with her?"
"It's all over your face. They're taking her to St. Jude-"
"Let's go." I didn't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't think straight, at the moment. Images of her broken bloody body kept on rising in my mind, contrasting sharply with my memories of her strong self.
-Aleeysha-
Antiseptic. I could smell it, I was in a hospital. I hate hospitals I realised with contempt; they were filled with too much hope and dread. Don't they realise that if they're in the hospital there isn't much to hope for?
My hand wrapped around the railing of the bed; the memory of a knife in my hand. How could they make me live? Couldn't they see I wanted to die? Stupid, stupid Darrens. No, you could never leave your job with the Darrens. I had to do this myself.
I couldn't get up. I was strapped into the bed. POW sparked in my mind; Prisoner Of War. I sighed; things would've been much easier if I had just slit my throat like I planned to. I had disappointed myself.
A nurse walked in. She sounded incredibly apologetic. "Sorry Ma'am. You just wouldn't stop thrashing. I was afraid you would hurt yourself."
"Please remove these restraints, I am much better thanks to your care" I kept my eyes on the plastic knife next to the plate of food on the table.
"I'm sorry Ma'am; I can't do that but the doctor will be here soon enough." She looked rather uncomfortable and left.
I banged my head into the headboard. Maybe I can cave in my scull.
"I wouldn't do that, unless you want another restraint around your head." The doctor arrived, I glared at him.
"I could see it took a lot of effort to sustain me. I had lost a lot of blood, a concussion, and the will to die. Why didn't you just kill me? You wouldn't be the first doctor I met who hid behind the excuse 'there was nothing you could do'. Not to mention, it wouldn't be hard to believe." I was being honest, and harsh.
"You're right; it took a lot of effort to save you. It'll be good on my record." He laughed casually, as if he only heard the first sentence. "Maybe I just want to know why you did this to yourself."
"I've got nothing to live for." I growled.
"Besides, they wouldn't let me. He cares a lot about you, you know."
His head tipped his head to the side at my reaction. "Who? The Darrens, oh great, that just proved it. I'm a POW."
"No actually, it was more on than all of them. Darren Valdez."
My head spun with confusion , surprise, and anger, remembering the last time he saw me.
"Hi, Aleeysha." A voice said from the door. The one and only, Darren Valdez.