The Accident

Chapter 27

Days. That was how long it felt like to make the trek back to Sebastian's apartment. But in reality it must have only been a fifteen minute walk. The longest fifteen minutes of your life. The tension was thick between the four of you as you walked behind Sebastian and Margarita; Chris glued to your side albeit not touching you in any way. He wanted to comfort you, but not coddle you. He had been through this before; this much you knew.

"I'm going to go and lie down," you mumbled as your feet managed to walk you through the door of the apartment.

"Do you want me....," Chris started to say but you cut him off.

"I just want to be alone right now."

You felt three pairs of eyes on you, and you didn't want them to feel sorry for you; you didn't want their damn sympathy. You just wanted to lay down in bed and forget this day ever happened.

"We'll be right here for you if you need anything sweetie," Margarita spoke softly as you managed to nod your head.

~~~

As your head hit the pillow you couldn't hold back the tears as they rolled down your cheek and you relived more memories that appeared while you were at the bar earlier. It was the first memory you recalled after losing your memories; the memory where you and Sebastian were fighting and he refused he tell you what had happened.

You were at a Mexican restaurant, one that you and Sebastian frequented in NYC. He ordered the burrito empanada, yet you were barely there in your mindset. Instead you were reeling from what he had said earlier to you.

"What did you mean earlier?" you snapped after the waitress had left. Sebastian sighed, lowering his gaze from yours. "Don't look away from me Seb!"

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, they were soft, sorrowful even. "You know what I meant Erica," he admitted, giving you a pointed look.

You rolled your eyes, chugging your drink, just wanting to forget this night. "What, you think I'm fucked up don't you? Ever since that night you think I need to be locked up in an institution? Well guess what Seb, maybe you're right! Maybe I do need to be locked away forever!"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he growled angrily, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, well it sure seemed like it," you scowled. "I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to interpret what you said huh? I fucking tried to KILL myself and then you go and tell me that you want to send me to a goddamn psychiatric ward!"

"Erica, calm down, please. People are starting to look at us."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and took another sip of your drink. "Let them fucking look Sebastian. I don't give a fuck." Closing your eyes, you concentrated on your racing heart and thoughts as your nails pinched the soft tender skin of your wrists.

Using your hand to wipe the snot from your nose, you couldn't help but notice the small circular scars that were scattered along both of your wrists. You hadn't noticed them before, but now, as your memories became clear, you knew exactly how they got there.

Without another thought, you pinched your left wrist with your nails, reveling in the calm the pain brought you as it made you think of nothing but the pain; not the memories. Blood began to seep from the wound as you pulled your hand away, finding fresh skin to sink your nails into yet again.

As your wrist began to throb with pain and the dark memories soon fading from your mind, you shut your eyes, utterly exhausted and slipped into a deep slumber.