Sanity ~ marvel cast.

30

My facial expression stops in the blink of an eye.

The muffled sounds of nurses and doctors shuffling around Amy sounds. My breath hitches and I can hear every single heartbeat in my chest. "Scar.." I mumble under my breath, barely even a whisper yet the woman picks up on it.

A tingling sensation swallows my whole body as my sight fuzzes up from the salty water surrounding them.

"Don't look over there, baby." Scarlett comforts me while trying to keep my concentration on her, but it's useless, I can't tear my eyes away from the horrific sight in front of me.

The doctors are pushing the defibrillator on Amy's chest, desperately trying to save her but she isn't waking at all. She's simply just lying there, her eyes glossy and dead, looking at one thing; me.

My bottom lip begins to shake before the first tear falls. My whole body is shaking and my hand is now covering my mouth, a small sound of despair escaping my lips.

Then, the doctor looks down at his watch before shooing the rest of them away.

"What's he doing." I mutter and scar immediately picks up on my emotions, attempting to hold me back. "The fuck are you doing?!" I yell at them, out of control as tears stream down my cheeks. "You need to fucking save her! What're you doing?!"

"Ma'am you need to calm down," the surgeon tries to tell me but I just get more upset at every word he tries to say.

"Calm down my arse! You need to save her! She can't die! Do you hear me? She can't!" I scream at them and sadness swallows everyone in the room.

"We tried everything we could," he tries to explain, driving me insane.

"No." I tell no one in particular. "Please no." I sob and Scarlett holds me close and tight. For a few moments I try to fight it before scar holds me tighter. It takes me a few moments to realise that she isn't trying to hurt me. She's trying to hug me. Her hand rests on my head as she rocks back and forth with me in her arms. I seem to be making her jumper wet but she doesn't care. I nestle my face into the crook of her neck, sobbing and taking a few moments every now and then to inhale.

"It's okay baby girl. It's okay." Her voice is soft, sending me into deeper sobs of despair. "Shh. I've got you. I've got you."

She can't be gone. She can't.

But she is. And nothing I can do will change that.

*

The room is dim and cold, the coldness is damp and swallowing me whole. So much so that I fear it will never be warm again. Because how can it when no one you love is alive?

A slight tapping sounds on the wood of the door.

"Who is it?" I ask, my dry throat from crying hurting when I dare make a sound.

"It's Scarlett, you need to eat something honey." I slump back down as I hear her words.

"I'm not hungry." I call back and she opens the door.

"This isn't healthy, sweetheart." She tells me and I start to cry again, the warm trickles of water dripping down my face.

"I feel like it's my fault, scar." She gives me a sympathetic glance as I finish. "It feels like if we didn't go skydiving then it wouldn't have happened. I'm to blame."

"It was no one's fault," Scarlett starts to tell me, "it was a collective agreement to go. It's not anyone's fault."

"I just miss her so much." As I weep, I bury my face in my hands.

"I know, honey. We all do." She comforts me, rubbing me back.

It's been a week total since Amy left us. And for the whole week I've been starving myself, not feeling like I deserve to eat. I may have had a snack occasionally but no meals.

"Come downstairs." Scar begins after I finish crying. "Please."

"I'll be down in a minute." I tell her and she pats my back a few times before removing her hand and walking away.

But there's something I need to do. I feel so guilty and there's no punishment. There should be punishment. The only way I can do that is cutting. And I swore to scar I'd never pull any shit like that again...

Cut yourself otherwise Amy died because of you.

No. I can't let the intrusive thoughts come back. Not again.

Fuck off.

You need to cut.

Stop!

Cut.

No!

Cut now.

PISS OFF.

Amy's death is on you.

That's it.

I rise for the first time in hours and walk over to the bathroom.

I take a moment to stare at the mess I am in the mirror. My ginger hair is all over the place, purple bags under my eyes not to mention that I reek.

I open the cabinet near the sink before reaching for a small cotton bag. It has my blades in it.

I pull up my sleeve once I pick one out, running my finger over the long scar on the inside of my arm before taking a few deep breaths, preparing for the pain about to come. Eventually, I sink the blade into my skin earning a small groan off of me before preparing to drag it.

"Shit!" I hiss as I quickly swipe the blade across my upper arm. Staring as the skin parts, I see the white line forming. Slowly but surely, blood pools around the area, turning the white to red.

Now do it more.

Piss off!

No. You deserve this.

Fine.

I make a few high pitched whimpers as I drag the blade over my arm... ten more times. The pain stings, now I feel punished, now, I feel released.

I wipe the tears from my eyes before pulling my sleeve down, the cotton stinging against the wounds. I take a shaky deep breath before returning to my room.

"Just act okay." I mutter to myself while walking out of the room and down the stairs.