Ride

30: Too Late

“You know what, you’re like Satan’s daughter! You’re a dog!” I was breathing hard, I was fuming. But I couldn’t show her that I was mad. My mom’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

“May I go now?” And I knew saying that was a mistake as I watched in horror as her face twisted into a more evil look as her hand swung up to slap me again at the same direct spot. Just then my father walked in, home from the office. He simply stared at my pleading eyes and sighed.

“Here we go again” Before turning and walking out the kitchen. My heart broke at that. I thought my dad would have stopped her, stopped this abuse. But recently they had just gone on vacation together, so they must have rekindled their love. Before they too would argue a lot, now everything was my fault.  

When I was finally able to get away I ran to my room and with shaky hands I locked the door and dashed into the bathroom. My hair was matted over my wet face, my cheek a radiant blush of red and then I lifted my right hand before slamming it down to the area my mother had just hit. I demand to feel pain for whatever wrongdoings that I have done. I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stop myself from slapping my face, my mother was right I was just a stupid girl. My hand fell on the same spot over and over and over again, it wasn’t until my arm got tired did I stop.

Like a chain reaction I grabbed the razors I had bought and sliced my ankle with them. I couldn’t feel pain, and I needed too. I just kept slashing until I could feel the sting and finally a few drops of blood leaked onto the floor. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, all I wanted was to leave this world tonight. I opened up the cabinet and took out the box of panadols I had stolen from the pantry and swallowed about 18 pills, washing them all down with water before turning off the lights and snuggling into bed. I wish I would disappear into oblivion. Please God, let me disappear into oblivion.

The next time I woke up was by the sound of the pounding of the window and then a click as someone had let them self in. I didn’t care if it was a burglar, I wanted to die anyways. But before I could close my eyes again I heard the noise of shoes stepping on the panadol case making a crinkling noise and then a ‘shit’ before I felt my bed dip.

“Bam Bam, Bam Bam! Alabama Carson! Wake up right now! Bama!” It was Brad and I smiled as tears fell onto my pillow. I would wake up for him but I was just so tired, there wasn’t any use staying awake anyways. I pressed my eyes closed and waited for sleep to consume me but with the relentless shaking he was doing it was impossible. Brad had pulled the sheets off of me and then a gasp tumbled from his mouth. It was probably from the blood, which had soaked onto the duvet. I was consumed by cold air. 

“Alabama this isn’t funny! Wake the fuck up” I smiled, he was trying to fight for me.

“Thanks Brad, but…I have to go” I whispered. My eyes had drooped closed and I couldn’t move a limb, I felt like jelly.

“Bam Bam!” I heard a sob, “Please don’t do this, don’t do this! Bama wake up!” I did wake up that night, but I woke up only to small glimpses of everything. I just knew that everything felt warm, that I couldn’t move. That even though I knew I had drool coming from my mouth I couldn’t stop it. It felt like a short period before I winked my eyes open again, it was all in a blur. Brad was dragging me by the waist to the bathroom and then I felt a hard pain on my head before Brad said some words of profanities, I felt the cold floor beneath me. I blacked out for a minute before opening my eyes again and this time I was hurling something into the toilet bowl. Brad’s finger down my throat. And that was all I remembered of that night. I woke up the next morning with bandages around my ankle and my waist. My head was dizzy and I still couldn’t move or else I would have fainted.