Fading Away ✅

Chapter Thirty-three

Blood!
There is blood everywhere.
On my hands, my legs, I can feel something wet dripping down my face.

I try to speak but nothing, yell–nothing. Please, anything to wake me up from this nightmare.
I can't even move my limbs to walk away from this nightmarish memory; I tried.

This one is different from the others. It looks like I'm reliving the parts I didn't see. In the other nightmares, she's already dead. Her body lays limp on the ground, her face is pale and her eyes are wide open but this time she's...breathing?

Her breaths are strangled but she's breathing. She lets out a strangled sob and a hoarse whisper escapes her lips
"Help, help"

I break out into a sob, trying to lift my hand but it doesn't even move an inch.

I watch, unable to help her as she leans her body against the sink, blood slowly dripping to the ground and the other hand clutching her phone tightly against her chest.

"Lex", she whimpers.

My blood runs cold and hot tears burn my eyelids.

She needs me.

"She needed you", the voice whispers
"But you were never there. She was always there but at her dying point when she needed you, you were never there".

I want to scream and tell her I am here and I am sorry.

I try to force my legs up, to reach over to her and tell her not to worry, I was here and I was going to get help but I couldn't
Because even in my nightmares, I didn't help my best friend.

I was always late to help her when she needed it.

"Lex, I'm sorry but...", she pauses letting out a strangled breath
"I don't think I have much time".

Tears streaking down my face, I watch heart-wrenchingly as her breathing slowly decreases with every passing second, the grip on her phone falls slack and it drops to the ground.
Her body follows after and she falls to the ground with a thud and the only thing I can do is stare and sob.

I can't yell, I can't move but I can feel that all too familiar pain accompanied with guilt that hits me hard.

She called countless times, I was late, I wasn't there when she needed me.

I feel my breathing come out in pants, my heart racing, and the onset of a panic attack.

I hear footsteps in the distance and the bathroom door slings open. I see myself; one year ago me dressed in ripped jeans and a crop top. Her hair looks healthy and the curls in it stand out and she has make up on.

A scream invades my thoughts and one year ago me rushes to Rose lying limp on the ground.

Blood is everywhere.

I suddenly jolt awake, drenched in sweat, my hands fisting my bedsheet, my heart racing, and my face covered in tears.
My whole body quivers and I shut my eyes reminding myself to concentrate on my breath.

White flakes of snowfall outside my glass window and the time on my alarm clock read one in the morning.

I unwrap my covers from my body and place my feet on the ground, feeling the bare, cold wood against my feet
I open one of the drawers of my bedside table and take out the scissors from it.

I watch as my blood drips down into the sink, grimacing at the pain in my forearm. I wipe my tears angrily.

Why am I crying?
I caused this.

"You are alive. Do you think you deserve to feel pity for your self".

Self-harm like everything is a reminder. The voices, the nightmare, and the panic attack are all reminders of why she is not here; she needed my help and I wasn't there.