Forsaken

Chapter One

I punched in the numbers as fast as I could. However, I could barely see them through my tear-filled eyes. After dialing the numbers, I pressed the talk button and waited desperately. There were two short rings, then an automated message played. I did not feel like waiting, but I knew that I needed to. I needed help. After listening to the long automated message and clicking more buttons, a woman responded. Her voice was soft, tranquil and almost reassuring. Almost.

"Hello. This is the Warm Hands Hotline. This is a safe space and you are in good hands. This call will be monitored for safety purposes. If you, a child or someone else is being harmed or is about to be harmed, please hang up and call 911. My name is Rebecca, how can I help?"

I tried to speak. I wanted to speak, but words would not come out of my mouth.

"Hello? Is anyone on the line," she asked.

I somehow could not respond. All I did was break out into a larger fit of tears and uncontrollable coughing.

I imagine that all she heard was my wailing. After some time had passed she responded again.

"I understand that you are going through a rough time, and it has taken a lot of courage and strength to call. Take your time, I am here to help."

"I want to die," I eventually choked out.

I was hiccuping, coughing, crying and sniffling concurrently. I knew I was not in the physical state to speak, but I wanted to say more. I needed to say more.

"If you do not mind me asking," she cleared her throat, "who or what has made you consider taking your life?"

"They... they did not stop. They would... not stop." I said in between hiccups.

"Take a deep breath. You do not have to answer the question if you do not want to. You always have a choice and I am here to help. If you want to keep going, we can start with who. Who would not stop," she asked softly and with concern in her voice.

I hung up. I was too scared to say anything else. During the short phone call, a sudden wave of paranoia hit me. I felt that if I said anything else, something worse would happen.

After I dropped my phone on the floor, the feeling left as soon as it hit. The only other thing I felt was numbness. I hugged my knees as I slid down the bathroom wall. Only God knew how long I was like this.

When I woke up, my body was incredibly sore. I was nearly immobile. My legs were so numb that I could barely feel them. I tried to get up and attempt to stand, but my knees buckled and I fell back against the wall painfully. I just barely caught myself from falling completely. When I was finally able to stand, I looked down at the kitchen knife that I took earlier. It sat there unused on the sink. I picked it up and examined it slowly. I watched my distorted reflection for awhile. After a couple minutes of playing around with it in my hand, I crouched down and hid it behind the toilet. I stood back up slowly since my legs were still unstable.

I reluctantly looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My eyeliner and eye-shadow were smudged horribly and it streaked and stained my cheeks. I turned on the faucet and scrubbed my face with hot water as hard as I could with my hands. It was very uncomfortable, but I wanted the smeared makeup off of my face. Most of the makeup came off. However, my face was a pale red from the excruciating rubbing. There were light gray stains or spots remaining, but they were only noticeable up close. Though my face looked irritated and inflamed, it was the least of my worries.

I looked in the mirror attached to the door and I noticed my dress was ruffled and torn in different places. I also noticed that I had no shoes on. My feet were cut in different places, and stained with dry blood and dirt. I must have lost my shoes on the way back home, and failed to realize that they were no longer in my possession. My hair was disgustingly matted and there were several tough knots. There were pine needles and leaves in my hair. It nearly resembled a bird's nest. I plucked the needles, leaves and dirt from my hair, and finger-combed some of the knots out.