𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐓⁰²ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ

ㅤㅤㅤ v ──spider web

I clicked my teeth and tongue and promptly shook my head. "Tsk, no, no. You forget. Adam -"

"Hah, yes, fine. I left ten. But I think that's still pretty good,"

I bobbed my head left and right, recognising I'm not qualified enough to answer his question. "Well, I only started yesterday, so I can't really give you a proper answer, can I?"

He gave my statement a thought before nodding, stepping foreward on the pedestrian lane when the stop light lit green. "Alright then. Update me in a month or two,"

Following beside him, I crossed the street with him by my side. "Do you mind telling me more about the group meetings you work on?"

I felt like a curious kid at the heels of someone older, and how couldn't I? He had a confident look to him as though he had shit together and had no plans on falling apart soon. And a therapist. I wondered how much they got paid.

Ashton nodded. "Well, I can't tell you about the people and things like that. Confidentiality, you know," He looked at me, eyes asking if I understood. I nodded. "But it's part of a rehabilitation organisation. They offer support groups and therapy for suicide survivors, addicts, grief, LGBT support, people who've gone through abuse. It's pretty well-rounded, I think,"

It definitely sounded like a dream.

"Huh, that sounds nice," My mind began to wander to Michael once again. "Which group are you on?"

He kicked a pebble with the tip of his shoe as he walked. "Survivors," He answered shortly.

He and I continued to walk in silence, my head consumed by the endless thoughts of the group therapy, Michael, Liz, Ashton, and how I managed to drop in between their interconnection.

Why did it feel like being a spider web and that I was the bug?

"This is me," Ashton blurted, stopping on his tracks and looking to the side at a flower shop.

I stopped along and stared for a moment, observing the well-lit interior and the many bouquets inside. From deep red roses to baby breaths by the counter, it seemed endless when you looked from the outside.

"Fellow Flora" The sticker on the glass door said, detailing the shop's phone number and email beneath it.

"Oh. Well, thanks for... um, helping me not die," I turned on a smile and watched as he gave a laugh, shifting his weight on one leg.

Traces of his laughter remained on his features, slowly fading as he calmed. "Um, yeah, glad to have done that for you. Have a good night," He put a hand on the shop door handle and beamed a grin towards me.

"You too," I turned, fully committed to walking back home and hopefully making some dinner with Darlene. I tried my best to push Ashton and what he said about the organisation off my mind, but something about it all irked me.

It was like a putrid scent in the air that I couldn't point out of where it originated from. It wasn't convincing enough to bug me, but persistent as that it forced itself to remain on my mind as I walked home.

Darlene had noted earlier that morning that she would arrive later that evening since she predicted that it would be a busier day at work, so I supposed it'd just be Calum and I.

Wonderful prospect. I tried not to overthink it.

I crossed the street and started heading between the buildings, passing half-lit convenience stores, trash-decorated alleyways, and walls adorned with vulgar graffiti.

LA was beautiful.

Once I reached my building, I started heading up the stairs and counting the 9 steps between each floor, up and up until I arrived at my floor.

I pushed through the wire door entrance and kept my eye on the 10th bulb, ignoring the slight noise of the TVs and cooking from the other apartments, and putting my key in when I found our door.

Once I was inside, I momentarily froze, something stirring in the bottom of my stomach - an unpleasant feeling that had no plan of passing at any second further.

It set itself deep in me in a snap and it bewildered me how I didn't even know why I felt so.

I stood still for a minute - listening - noticing how silent the apartment seemed to me.

I'd expected there to be the TV playing at the very least, or something frying in the kitchen, but there was nothing.

My mind ran to a memory of total silence from my home in Phoenix - dad passed out on the couch with a beer bottle slowly slipping from his hand as a thick snore shook his chest every few seconds.

With Darlene and Calum, there was always sound - be it the MTV channel on the TV, Calum's occasional singing, Darlene's rants, or their arguments. It was never usually this silent.

This would've been the first.

I hung my purse on the back of the door and headed for the living room, eyes immediately landing on Calum's sleeping body on the couch, his blanket thrown recklessly over him as one arm stuck out lazily.

For a minute, my worries were put to rest. But just as I sighed in relief, my eyes fell to the orange pill bottle lying empty on the table, its cap strewn on the floor.

Fuck.

My instincts replaced my confusion in a click of a second, immediately rushing to Calum's side and hoping he truly was just sleeping.

"Calum!" I gasped out his name at an attempt to wake him, desperate to be louder than the banging heart in my chest.

I rested the back of my hand to his forehead and felt the temperature of his sweat, his skin - an unsettling warmth that remained cohesive when I placed my grip on his arms to turn him towards me.

This was the closest to deja vu I'd been in a while - a dying brother in my arms, his name running past my lips, my heart a wild bird in my cage-like ribs. The only difference was that Calum was still warm, still alive. Still here.

His lashes fluttered, a confirmation of his life, and I felt myself ease up a thousand times over. I needed him to be awake. The thought of Darlene losing him had an effect more upsetting than I'd expected.

What do I do? The question whirled in paranoid circles in my head. He's not gone.

I repeated the words in my head as I sat him up. "Hey, Calum. Calum, please wake up," I leant forward as best as I could and listened in for his breath. Relieved hope sprung in me after feeling him exhale, the slight gust of air blowing small whisps of my hair.

After sitting back and supporting his upper body up with all my strength, I watched his eyes open, dark pupils dilated to their best. "Hey, can you breathe alright?" I asked as softly as I could. "Calum?"

I didn't know why I asked him this. I just needed to fill the silence and know that he could respond properly.

He furrowed his brows for a moment, eyes moving towards the empty pill bottle and sighing, letting his head fall on me with his forehead resting on my shoulder. "Fuck. I'm not dead,"

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the paragraph at the very start
of this chapter will be shown in
other chapters where sensitive topics
may be discussed or shown.
i don't want to spoil what would be
in the chapter, so i'll keep it that way.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
any thoughts on the chapter?