Suicide Saved Me

Chapter 12

Suicide screamed.

The pain in my shoulder formed like a forest fire. Slowly, it spread. A hand was gripping roughly onto my shoulder. Seeing as my senses were utterly cluttered, it was only when someone tried to pull the hand away that I realized it had been my own.

I opened my eyes and stared down at the man beneath me, whose eyes stared back maliciously, the white parts covered in popped arteries, pink veins surrounding the irises. It was then that I noticed he was trying to remove my hand from the wound in order to inflict yet another injury.

In a defensive and rather panicked manner, I pulled my arm back to give him a nice punch as best as I could— I missed.

That caught me off guard and I almost thought that he wouldn't use that opportunity to hit me until I felt a shock of pain on the top of my head.

My ears rang and I suddenly felt dizzy. I looked around me in panic, trying to make sense of anything I could, only discovering that my hands were wet. I couldn't exactly tell if they were covered in sweat or blood, but the feeling was unnerving.

My eyes blacked out momentarily. I felt something cold under my cheek, like smooth, polished wood, and everything turned confusing and black.

Two rectangles swung overhead, continuously overlapping each other and pulling away. Around and around they went like a carousel. Eventually they slowed and I stared at a ceiling that disappeared into darkness.

There was a hollowed thump every few seconds and then voices appeared as if I had raised my head from underwater.

“Carter, Carter, Carter.”

It was annoying, hearing them repeat my name.

“He’s too heavy,” a female voice demanded, this time sounding breathless. “I can’t—”

Something slammed very loudly and I felt pain everywhere.

There were gasps.

A new voice filled the room then. Unlike the first, this voice was male and it was calm, careless, almost irritated. “Open the door. I got him.”

“It's not a deep cut, Mrs. Nicholas,” another woman’s voice said. “I can patch him up. He’ll be fine in no time.”

The voices continued to converse with one another, and after a minute or so they came from further and further away, and eventually they faded.

*     *     *

“Carter.” The voice was in my ear, soft and sweet. “Carter, wake up.”

I stirred in my sleep, slowly gaining consciousness. I was aware of my steady breathing as well as something wrapped around my shoulder. Whatever it was felt comfortable as hell. It was tight on the wound with just enough pressure. I felt no pain. Instead, I felt dizzy… lightheaded…

“Blaze?” I murmured, slurring her name. My voice was deep and heavy, similar to when I awoke from a long night's sleep.

“It’s Suicide,” she sighed.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“An hour or so.”

“You saved me?”

She laughed, but it sounded dry. “I guess so.”

I blinked my eyes open and recognized my bedroom. I was lying on my bed and she was kneeling on the floor beside it. Her usual glossy, brown eyes looked exhausted. She reached her hand out to run her fingers down the side of my face, her fingers like feathers.