Bruises and Bitemarks [Hiatus]

[Don't] Leave Me

It was night, maybe around 2 am. Everything was quiet and I was alone in my bleak room, which was so cold. I never will understand why the air conditioning is turned on even though it is still chilly outside. I had been trying to sleep the entire time but to no success, so in the end I just laid in my bed with my eyes closed, trying to force myself to sleep so I could dream. Images and memories visited my mind as I laid still, steadying my breathing to a slow pace. I didn’t like staying in this room, I had said before that I felt unsafe…I’m not afraid of the dark, but…

I was trying to sleep on my right side, facing the door to my room when I suddenly felt really warm. Just a moment ago I was freezing and this warmth was out of place. Words cannot begin to describe how fast my heart was racing because I didn’t know what was going on. I slowly opened my eyes, careful to stay as still as possible because I wasn’t sure what was happening, careful to not give away the fact that I was awake since I didn’t know what I was dealing with.

But then I knew: it was body heat. There was someone sitting behind me.

I immediately sat up and tried to turn at the same time so I could see who it was, as my eyes had already adjusted to the darkness of the room.   

That proved to be a very, very terrible idea I felt as if my side was being repeatedly stabbed by a million little daggers then doused with salt and vinegar. I probably tore my stitches open. I let out a sharp cry and instantaneously crashed back down onto the bed.

Stunned and out of breath, my arm hung limply over the side of the mattress and I squeezed my eyes shut as my body tensed up as a reflex from the pain. As if that would help to ease the hurt and make me feel better.

“Shh, shh,” I heard a voice say close behind me, then my bed shifted and I started to feel warmer than before. I opened my eyes again. In the back of my mind I already had an idea of who I thought it was going to be, but my current conscious was telling me not to hope too much.

“Zac?” I managed to say, pain riddled in my brittle voice; my breathing jagged.

“Yes, Amy, it’s me,” he replied quietly.

I didn’t know what to do. Should I stay where I was? Tell him to leave? Run away? I knew that the latter was impossible considering my condition but I—

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I only came to apologise.”

“Z-Zac—“

“Be quiet,” he suddenly ordered. Feeling scolded, I laid there wordlessly as he started to talk, to explain. He apologised for the attack, he apologised for putting me in a hospital, for almost tearing me to pieces... I quietly accepted every word that came from his lips, but after a while I wasn’t listening to a single word, and he knew that because he stopped after a few minutes.

The room went silent and for a moment I didn’t think he was even there anymore, but I knew that he was because I still felt warm just like before.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a final avowal to his former opening statement.

“I don’t want to hear an apology,” I muttered, before forcing myself to sit up. The pain had started to subside enough for me to move, but it still made me flinch. I turned to face him, to help myself confirm that he really was here with me in this hospital room.

He really was there. Zac was sitting on my bed with his back to the headrest, one leg stretched out on my bed, the other off the side of it with his foot planted onto the floor for balance. I haven’t seen or talk to him in days, and seeing him sitting here so close to me made me feel so comforted.

The moonlight reflected off of his pale form and his green eyes danced underneath the illumination, making him stand out to me more than usual. I studied him for a minute or two, just drinking in the fact that he was within my grasp.