Down Under

Chapter 3-Blaze/Damon

Chapter 3

 

Lyric walked me out of the office, staring down at the ground while she trudged along beside me. No words were exchanged between us as we descended the stairs. I had forgotten how quiet she was; it had never bothered me before, but now it was the slightest bit uncomfortable. There seemed to be a sort of tension between us, not because either of us were angry at the other, but more so because we hadn’t spoken in so long. It’s hard to know what to say when you don’t even know the person you’re trying to talk to anymore.

“I guess I’ll see you later?” I said, breaking the growing silence.

She nodded and quickly tucked her hair behind her ear. Her eyes fell to the ground before they came back up to meet mine and she blurted, “Do you have any plans for getting the guys to come back?”

I shook my head, letting a sigh slip through my lips. My shoulders drooped when the breath came out. “I think the only thing I can do right now is find out why they refuse to get back together.”

“They all seemed troubled by something.”

I chuckled, my former doubts regarding her personality drifting away.

“What?” Lyric frowned up at me, her forehead crinkling as though I had confused her.

“I haven’t seen you in two years and you still act exactly the same. I was scared you had changed completely, but here you are: still so observant with these type of things.”

She bit her lip. “Is that bad?”

“Not at all.”

“Are you going to talk to them?” 

I huffed and raked my fingers through my hair, making it fluff up on top. “I think I’ll start with Damon.” He seemed the most likely to agree to help me and the most willing to come back. He loved the band just as much as I did. At least, he used to… The image of him yanking down his sleeves when we walked into the room popped forward in my mind.

“Good luck, Blaze.” Lyric patted my arm and gave me a sympathetic smile before she turned to head back inside.

I nodded, but I had waited too late; her back was already to me. I stood there for a minute, shaking my head at my own stupidity before I started off in the direction of D’s house.

 

 

DAMON

I sat on my floor with my back pressed against my bed and stared at my wrists. The right one had new scars over the old ones, creating patterns of X’s all over my skin and just a few new shallow wounds. The left one had deeper fresh cuts and blood trickling down it. I blinked back hot tears, hatred for myself rising in my gut.

Why did I start this again? I hadn’t touched a knife in months, but now here I was again, covering my arms in scars I knew would never fully go away. It wasn’t even a knife this time, it was jagged piece of broken glass from that damn frame. The depression I was trying so hard to fight was coming back and taking over my life. It ruled every decision I made, including this one. It corrupted my mind, I couldn’t think straight.

I looked to my left and saw the empty bottle of pills I had been prescribed last week. How many had I just taken? I couldn’t remember, my mind was too clouded. They were the only thing that made me feel better, that made everything bearable.

Everything started to get hazy and my vision began to blackout around the edges. My thoughts were growing harder and harder to organize, to even form a sentence in my mind was becoming impossible. The last thing I recall is falling over on my side and giving up. I didn’t want the pain anymore, the suffering that came with my life. I didn’t want it.

 

 

BLAZE

I knocked on Damon’s door, but he didn’t answer. I knew he would be home by now-he never went anywhere else, I knew that much. So I knocked again. 

Still nothing.

“Damon?” I shouted, beating my fist on the door with more force to ensure it would echo through his house. Some instinct of mine told me this wasn’t right, that he would have come by now. “D, come on! We need to talk!”

My worry increased when he still didn’t come. I looked through the small window in the center of the door, but it was too dark inside to see anything, he must not have a single light on. I went around the side of the house and searched for the window I knew belonged to his room. I was desperate, I wanted to know he was okay. Once I found it and saw his curtain was open, I peeked in. What I saw stopped my heart for a moment.

Damon was lying slumped over on his floor, his face against the ground.

“Damon!” I yelled. Something was terribly wrong, he didn’t even appear to be breathing.

In a frantic hunt for an object to break the window with, adrenaline started to pump through my veins, causing me to go faster than I ever thought possible. I didn’t know what I was doing, just that I had to get in that room. I found a large rock and smashed it through the window, shattering a hole in the glass. I used my shoe to push the glass out of the way enough for me to crawl through, not even noticing when I got cut in the process. I climbed in and stumbled over Damon’s bed, falling to my knees next to him.

It was clear he was unconscious, but that was the least of my worries in that moment. What caught my attention the most was the slash on his left wrist and the pool of blood it lay in, and the empty medication bottle beside his head.

I shook his shoulder as hard as I could. “Damon, mate, come on. Wake up, D.” I grabbed the medication bottle and read what it was: the depression medicine he had been on when we were younger. Was he back on it? I searched the bottle: The date on it was from last week, but it was completely empty. 

The bottle slipped from my hand. “Damon, how many of these did you take? Damon!” I shook him again, desperate for any confirmation that he could hear me.

He didn’t respond, but his chest still rose and fell, letting me know he was in fact breathing, even if it was shallow. The knot in my stomach loosened enough for me to think clearer.

“Damon. Hang on, mate. Hang in there.” I grabbed a shirt that was lying on the floor and wrapped it tightly around his wrist in an attempt to stop the blood. After I made sure it was compact enough that it would apply pressure, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called an ambulance.

“What’s your emergency?” the operator answered.

“Please, I need an ambulance! I just found my friend unconscious on his floor. He has cuts on his wrists and I think he tried to overdose.”

“What’s your location?”

I scrambled to remember the address and prayed I had gotten it right when I told the woman.

“I’m dispatching a medic to your location right now. Is your friend breathing?”

I checked on Damon again to make sure. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, stay on the phone until help arrives. Does he have a history of this?”

“Cutting, yes. Overdosing, no.” My voice was higher than usual and came out in a rush but I couldn’t help it. My mind was spinning too fast for me to calm down.

The woman kept talking, but I stopped listening. I crouched down and tried to breathe, the adrenaline dwindled away, replaced by fear. My breaths were short and rapid, matching the beating of my heart that caused my chest to ache. I couldn’t panic now; not here, not when Damon could lose his life. But my anxiety kept increasing and all I could think was, I hope they get here in time… 

 

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I'm sorry this is so short! I didn't realize until editing. Next one will definitely be longer! <3