I Guess This Is What Feels Like To Be Dying

Level 18 [Part 2]

 Jessica is sitting on the bed with her knees against her chest and her sobs are so tormenting. She's crying so much that her lungs are having trouble collecting the necessary air for her to breath, so she's just sitting there gasping for air, crying like mad. Her mouth is open, and her lips are cracked and dry. She has dark spots under her eyes and her cheeks are tense and dry from new tears that fall. Her hair is all messy and her hands are closed between her knees and chest. Her bare legs have spots of blood, as same as the bed. On her chin, blood is smudged, and her hands...her hands are covered with fresh gore, staining her white t-shirt. Next to her on the bed is the same pocket knife I found a couple days back, and the tip of it is dirty with the same red substance.

Her face is a mix of painful emotions like I've never seen before. She's filled with regret, possibly for what just happened, but at the same time the pain she's experiencing is so immense that the aching in her cut up wrist seem nothing compared to what she's feeling.

I stare at her, wanting to hug her against me and protect her, but I don't want her to see me. I feel lost with no direction.

Her hand falls to her side and I can finally take a look of what she did to herself. In her right wrist 4 deep cuts are pumping blood and her hands are trembling, and pale.

I know what it is to lose someone you love. She'll end up killing herself if she doesn't stop. I force myself to get up on my feet and reach the knife. Since her eyes are swollen and shut and the music is playing loud she won't see me take it, and so I do and immediately leave the room, stumbling onto the shelfs on the corridor.

I run back to my room and open the window to the backyard, throwing the knife as far as I can, without banging my hand on the golden cobwebs. I see it fly through the air and disappear in the darkness of the night.

I make my way to the bed, not bothering to close back the window and I lay on my side, crying my eyes out. I want to be alive so badly so I can take some action! I don't know if I should tell Blake what I just saw. Maybe he'll snap at her and make it worse! I hate feeling like this. Nothing hurts more than witnessing someone crumble and not being able to do anything.

Later into the night, after my eyes are long dry and my sobbing are silent, I hear Blake's voice in the corridor. I can't quite figure out what he's saying, but he's talking loud enough for me to understand that he's definitely upset. I feel my body tight as Blake's footsteps come closer and closer.

He enters the room, cursing under his breath and sits on the chair.

"Kayla?" He calls me. "I'm about to go play team Fortress, are you up to it?"

His voice is tense. I know he knows I'm here because of the cold, but I really don't want to answer him. I remain quiet and as still as I can.

"So, you're not talking to me either? Fine then." He pushes his hair back with his hand and turns to the computer screen, snorting.

I end up falling asleep.

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"Son of a bitch!" Blake's loud whisper, startled me and I wake up. I rub my eyes and I can tell is the middle of the night. Blake is still up playing video games, and by the look of his body language I can guess that he's still pissed off.

I sit on my knees and make myself visible.

"Blake?" I call

"What?" His eyes didn't move from the screen.

"Blake what's wrong?" I frown at his attitude.

"Nothing is wrong." He presses on the keyboard harder and faster. "Ah fuck." He yells. He turns around in the chair facing me.