Hello Monday

Part 22; 9:33 am

Monday hisses in pain as I attempt to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on his wound with both my hands. The blood that had once flowed in his artery now coils around my fingers. Although this goes against my better hygiene judgment, I am desperate to stop the bleeding.  I gasp as I feel the continuous flow of the dark red substance despite my efforts.

"Is it bad?" Monday lamely jokes. At first, I consider telling him a white lie. I shouldn't worry the injured man, right?

The wound? Ah, it's nothing bad. Just a minor scratch.

But the dark red substance that continues to flow out of the wound despite my efforts tells me otherwise.

"It—It's not stopping. It must have hit an artery," I cry. And of course, my ever so dramatic tear ducts do not fail in providing me with more tears.

My heart aches as Monday writhes in pain. "Stop moving around, you'll make it worse," I sob. My tears make it seem like I'm the one in pain.

But to be completely honest, I am. Just in a different way.

With his cheek still resting on my knee, Monday reaches a hand out and touches my leg. Then he whispers something inaudible under his breath. I furrow my eyebrows and bend my head down so I can put my ear closer to him.

"Payphone," he whispers into my ear. Confusion melts away from my face. Instead, agitation and determination cover my face to replace it. I lift my head away from his face and wipe my cheeks with my clothed shoulders. I kneeled a little taller, hell-bent to find a way to go one more floor down without another injury.

Right at that moment, as if a spell is broken, every single one of the men in the vicinity turns his head to look at the man with the loaded gun.

"What's wrong with you, man? You brought an actual gun?" he whisper-yells just loud enough for every single one of us to hear.

As if that is a trigger, each person pipes up with their own opinions, of course, in disagreement with Victor. Simply put, the hallway becomes a marketplace with no market.

Without a second to waste, I withdraw my hands from his wound to remove my school vest. Recalling the mandatory first aid training I had over a month ago, I tie it around his leg above the wound as tight as I can, hoping it will at least do something to stop the bleeding. I never thought those trainings would be of use. Guess I was wrong. I lower my head and whisper in Monday's ear, "Can you get up? Now is the perfect chance to go one more floor down."

Monday stares at me with a blank look. "Can you carry me?" he asks.

I look at him startled. The words that are already at the tip of my tongue is swallowed back in when I see the smile playing on his lips. In a deep baritone, he says, "I'm kidding."

I gulp and give him a small smile. I can vaguely feel the words I can try going down my throat.

In the midst of the chaos, Monday pushes his body with his arms, folding his uninjured leg. The moment he tries to kneel, though, he hisses. I am quick to be by his side, clutching the outstretched arm closest to me.

Monday closes his eyes and visibly gulps, his face crinkling in the process. "Just... give me a second," he rasps.

I wish to tell him take all the time you need, but I would just be lying. If I've learned anything from all this, it's that time is never on your side. Just when you need it, it's not something you freely have.

I squeeze Monday's arm, not certain myself what message I'm trying to convey. It's okay? Or we have to hurry?

Before I can overthink it, Monday grips my arm that is latched onto his. I break out of my thoughts just in time to support his weight as he leans on me, dragging his injured leg in order to stand up. I visibly cringe, unable to imagine the pain Monday must be enduring. Without much thought, I grab his arm and throw it around my shoulder. Only one thought is going through my mind: I will save the man who saved me.

The scene of chaos stares back at me as I glance up. All of Victor's men are giving him a piece of their minds, which I can say is more than bearable. Just to my luck—please note the sarcasm, my eyes conveniently land on Victor's eyes that are already staring back at me.

Anger swirls in his eyes as he opens his mouth. Then everything happened so quickly afterward because before he could stop us, a fist is slammed into Victor's face.

"What's wrong with you!" the owner of the fist spits at him.

At first, Victor stays terrifyingly still with an evil smirk on his turned face. He starts laughing maniacally as he stands straight, wiping the blood that is pooling in his mouth with the back of his hand. Before I could even blink, another punch is thrown.

This time Victor is the one to throw the punch at Anthony, along with the words, "I raised you not for you to disrespect me like that."

I flinch, feeling like I am exposed to too much violence for a day. I stay unmoving with Monday—who has a similar expression of a wide-open mouth and equally wide-open eyes—around my shoulder. In the midst of this ongoing fight, Anthony meets my eyes. With a hard stare, he mouths one word. "Go." Then proceeds to throw another punch at his uncle.

That isn't enough to pull me out of my state of shock. As if my whole body has turned into lead, it retains a stiff posture—at a standstill.

Not long after, a tug breaks me out of my trance.

I blink the remaining spell away, coming back to my full senses; the rigidness of my muscles melting away. I readjust Monday's arm around my shoulder in my grip, swiftly making our way to the staircase—with him limping, of course.

I stop just before taking a step down the stairs.

I turn my head one last time to look at the man who gave me my first heartbreak, if not the last. The man who gave me a bouquet of my favorite chocolates. The man who held my hand at a hike. The man who I kept close to me besides Dr. Sanders. The man who later used me against me. And the man who chose himself over me, but is now beating up another for me. I take a deep breath as I feel the emotions I have for him slip away from me, out of reach.

And this time, I don't try to grab it.

Without another thought, I turn back around and take a step into the future with Monday.