Finding Sam (Featured)

Chapter 34 - The Things She Said

I landed squarely against the rim of the tub. The impact knocked the wind out of me even as I tried to grab the knife from Serena's fingers. In my ear, I could hear Olivia screaming my name, telling me - or was it Josh? - call 911 immediately. My side stung and hurt, but at that moment, I could only focus on one thing. The knife.

I had no thought for my own safety, the possibility of the knife slashing me never occurring to me even after the blade sliced through my right palm. I had foolishly thought that my familiarity with the Exacto knife I'd used for years to sharpen drawing pencils and crayons would have made taking it away from Serena an easy task. But I had completely underestimated the cosmetic surgeon who wielded it, both her strength and her intentions.

As the knife cut across my palm, the pain shot through me like an icy sting followed by a burning sensation that made me gasp in shock as my hand dipped into the warm water. Still, my mind was focused, my attention only on taking the knife away from Serena before she could do any more damage - maybe not just to herself, but to me.

But despite my intentions, at that moment, I realized that things had spiraled out of my control.

Damn you, bitch! She screamed at me again. Damn you to hell!

My body was twisted in a strange way outside the tub, my feet struggling to regain their footing on the slippery floor as I caught hold of Serena's arms, keeping the blade away from her and from myself. But Serena's strength surprised me once again. Her wrist slipped from my grasp and she slashed towards her other arm again - or was it at my right arm? The dull blade sliced through my forearm and this time, I screamed in pain, blood gushing from a wound that spanned what looked like more than the length of my hand. This time, I didn't have to know that she had cut deeply. My right hand flopped back like it belonged to a rag doll.

It's strange how the mind, once realizing that certain things were no longer within its control, acquiesces to the reality of the situation at hand, allowing one's adrenaline-flooded body to do things the rational mind wouldn't have done - or thought to do at that moment. Or were my thoughts simply racing too fast for me to process normally?

I could have left Serena in the tub and let her do whatever it was she wanted. Still, I couldn't simply stand aside and watch her take her own life in front of me. Adrenaline had taken over me, overruling the common sense to get away and protect myself. I needed to do what I could to stop her. Why, I didn't know. This time, I climbed over the tub wall and fell into the water with her. Water splashed over the rim as my weight displaced the water still pouring from the faucet, the heat hitting me first and then the steam clouding my vision.

The lacerations on my palm and forearm stung like mad, pain shooting through me with every move I made, making me light-headed. Everything was happening as if in slow motion, each movement punctuated by the stillness of time that no longer seemed to exist.

"You!" Serena screamed. "Why do you have to ruin everything?"

"Me?!" I sputtered, lunging towards her again, my brain refusing to acknowledge all the danger I had just put myself in, or that my right hand was no longer working. "I never asked for any of this!"

My little Michael's face flashed in my mind then, and with it the moment when David handed him to me after they had to do the emergency C-section because something had gone wrong during the 30 hours of labor. Another vision came. Michael swaddled in my arms, with me holding on to him for dear life as David went on his rages about my paintings - or the lack of them - and how we needed the money so we should just sell the house to the developers and move into an apartment. And yet another vision. Michael learning how to walk and talk. Michael, with his beautiful blue eyes and dark hair, so much like his father, yet not so much like him because he was going to be a kind and gentle boy. *My boy.