His Saving Grace

Chapter Thirteen

Yup, you read that right--there was blood. All over. Well, not really all over, but there was a lot of blood. Garrett was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, a pair of scissors in hand, and...the wound.

"Garrett," I whispered, scrambling to my feet. The small puddle of blood surrounding him was horrifying, and it was getting bigger and bigger by the second.

"Garrett," I said louder, taking the bloodstained scissors from his hand. His severed wrist was covered in blood, and there were two incisions near his pulse point. He was bleeding so badly that no words in my vocablary could descirbe it. Still no response.

"Shit, Garrett," I mumbled, looking for a soiled shirt to cover his wound with. Wrapping the cloth around his arm, I lifted him, which was very surprising considering how tall he was (adrenaline rush, I guess) and dragged him to the bathroom. He was still unresponsive.

"Hey," I said, slapping him. "Don't sleep. Oh my god," I said, reaching for the first aid kit that was hanging on the wall. Well, at least health class has finally proven its worth to me.

The wounds were terrible. The cuts were so deep that I could almost see his pulsating vein. I willed myself not to throw up as I pressed hard on the pressure point of his arm, praying that the bleeding would stop.

This is why I don't ever want to be a surgeon. My blood or your blood, it freaks me out.

To no luck, the bleeding continued. Garrett's shirt was almost completely stained with his own blood, and so was mine. The floor was starting to get bloody.

"Garrett, wake the fuck up, you bastard," I hissed, pinching him in the face as hard as I could. Nothing. I could feel the tears starting to form--not just because I was terribly afraid of blood.

"Wake up, wake up, wake UP." Still no response. Before I knew it I was crying, my hands soaked with blood. Garett was so pale it was horrifying.

"Mmphh," he mumbled. I looked up, unblinking. Garrett furrowed his eyebrows, and then he twitched. 

I sighed. Garrett's eyes fluttered open. He looked straight at me.

"What--" 

"Stop talking or you'll die," I threatened, opening a bottle of disinfectant. Well, my threat was partly true. If he continued moving I was pretty sure the flow of blood would continue.

I don't even know what I just said.

Soon enough his horrible wounds were all bandaged up, an I felt tired as hell.

"Why'd you do that?" Garrett asked as I put the antiseptic back in the first aid kit.

"Do what?" I asked.

"You should've just let me die."

I sighed, rolling up the unused bandages. "Maybe. But I didn't let you."

I continued putting away the stuff in silence. I felt Garrett's watchful eyes on me.

"Get up. I'll need to mop the floor before they get suspicious. Just go to the living room or something..." I said, looking at the blood on the bathroom floor. I felt my stomach tighten.  Garrett stared at me for a while before slowly getting up. When I was about to shut the door he stopped it with his foot.

"Aren't you going to ask why?" he said, staring at me with his big blue eyes.

"No," I said shortly, prodding his foot away from the door. "Because it's not of my business." 

~~

"KATIE! GET THE DOOR!" Alahna shouted from the bathroom. I dragged myself through the living room with a toothbrush in my mouth, wondering who the hell in his right state of mind would be visiting at six in the morning.

"Katie," Keith said, smiling at me. The smile didn't reach his eyes, though. 

I rolled my eyes, thankful that the toothbrush in my mouth would keep me from saying anything insulting. I held the door open for him, watched him get settled on our couch, and went back to brushing.

Fuck. So John was really serious about Keith bringing me to school like I was still in elementary. 

"Keith!" I heard Alahna shout from the stairs. She rushed down, hair up in a turban and cream all over her face. I slammed the kitchen door shut, pissed beyond measurable as the events of that night when Garrett cut his wrist. I shuddered at the thought, looking uneasily at the pair of kitchen scissors on the shelf beside me.

"Just get me to school," I said, opening the kitchen door. The two stopped talking as I stormed my way out the front door.

"Katie!" I heard Keith call from behind me. "Wait up."

"I don't need you to bring me to school!" I shouted, earning a few nasty looks from a group of old ladies having coffee on their front porches.

"Can we talk, please?" Keith said, grabbing my arm. I tried to shrug him off, but being the athlete that he was, my efforts were futile. "Listen to me, Katie. Please?" I continued to shrug him off, getting angrier and angrier by the second.

"Why did you leave me?" I said, my voice quavering. I stopped shrugging him off, and he let my arm fall back to my side. I felt the tears starting to form. Not now, you foolish crybaby. Not the fuck now. "You promised," I said, trying to keep a steady tone in my voice. "You said you'd put me first, that whatever would happen you'd be there for me. You promised," I said, raising my voice a little. "You left me for that little whore named Samantha who ended up breaking your heart in the end. And now you come running back? Would you thinks things would be different?" 

"Keith!" I shouted, running towards me, my black 2-inch heels hanging on my wrists. I bunched up the humongous skirt of the dress I was wearing. "Keith, wait up!" 

He remained unresponsive. Keith just walked on through the empty school parking lot, a bag slung over his shoulder. "Keith. What's wrong?"

Keith turned to face me. His eyes were blazing with rage. I flinched. "Everything is wrong, Katie. Everything. Sammy...she almost broke up with me because of you. Because you had that stupid idea that we should've done a duet and act all mushy," he snarled.

"But--"

"But nothing. You know what, I risked my relationship with the one girl I've truly had and loved for a stupid pageant with a stupid girl and I didn't even win. You're nothing to me, Katie. I don't ever want to see your face again."

 He was gone. He hated me. I started to sob like the crybaby fifteen year old I was, falling on my knees. It started to rain--cliche, but yes. 

He was gone.

Everything rushed back into my mind. The day we first met, to the day he first held my hand, to the day he told me he loved me, to the day of the pageant.

Silence. We just stood there, facing each other, unblinking as we stared into each others eyes. Keith didn't say a single world.

"You know what," I began. "You're a douche. All of those tears I shed when I was a freshman were for nothing. Maybe that's why that Ashley girl left you for Garrett."

I walked alone to school.