Held [Completed]

Thirty.

Thirty.

I can't sleep. Three words that annoy the hell out of me. Actually, I don't really think it's the words. It's the fact that I can't close my eyes. I can't drift off into a safe, peaceful dreamland because I have way too much on my mind. And it's difficult to sleep over the sound of your own thoughts.

"Olivia,"

Oh, and the hospital too. It's really hard to sleep here. They come in like thieves in the wee hours of the night to poke and prod me. You'd think I was some government experiment with the way I'm kept here.

"This is Doctor Wilkes. He'll be assessing you today."

Here we go again.

Groaning loudly, I shift onto my side to face the window. I'd rather face away from them because they'll get my messsage quicker. Leave me alone.

"It's just a discussion about your surgery and how well it went." The bubbly nurse with the shrill voice says excitedly.

Oh yeah. I had to go into surgery as soon as I arrived because I suffered from heavy internal and external bleeding. My vaginal ligaments were torn so badly that they had to perform a procedure to fix it.

Thankfully, the bleeding has stopped and it's less painful to walk. The doctors and nurses explained how miraculous it was for me to have survived all of that. He went on to tell me that most girls who experience severe tearing can't have anymore kids. I still can though. But do I want to?

"Actually, it's not so much about your surgery, Olivia. It's about what I examined during it."

I sit up quickly, only to realize that my sudden movement has caused a steady ache in my head. I rub my forehead gingerly while giving him my undivided attention. This sounds serious.

Sensing my acceptance to hear him out, he says,

"The wounds on your wrists concern me." His gray eyebrows raise while he anaylzes my face.

"Wounds on my wrists?" I frown in confusion, not thinking to check the very place he is talking about.

"You know I meant scars." He shakes his head with a small chuckle.

"Oh those. They're nothing serious. That was a long time ago." I admit sheepishly.

It was a darker time in my already shitty life. I was depressed everyday, and couldn't keep anything down. Now they're healed, only scars remain. I shudder while trying to supppress the awful memory. But once again, my mind wanders away.

My legs swing over the bed and with a tired sigh, I grab some advil off the nightstand. Last night he was violently rough. Nothing like how he was before. He was so much more worse because he walked in on me cutting. He was angry because I tried to off myself.

I've never been one to contemplate suicide or even go through with it.

But last night was different. Something in me snapped and I couldn't bear it anymore. I couldn't even bear to think about it so my mind focused on my other problems. They'll all be resolved.

At first I thought I could keep this up. This pretending to be in love with him but I can't. I can't keep making him think I love him when I don't, because that just makes him lust after me more.

So an hour before he was supposed to come home I decided to take myself out of here. I decided to rid the world of terrible me. I couldn't take it anymore. The pain, the hurt, the anger. I just couldn't carry it all so I went to the bathroom and-