His Angelic Love

[Twenty-One] Saving Him From Himself

[Part 3]

Chapter 21: Saving Him From Himself

"There is not enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of even one small candle."

-Robery Alden

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 The moment my feet stopped at the door, I started to feel panicky. A slow, infectious feeling of dread washed over me. It was filling my veins and ruining my organs, my entire body felt the fear that something was obviously wrong.

When my hand touched the door knob it felt like an alarm went off in my mind, especially with the fact that it was locked.

I had some options at mind. I could simply tell Jane and Frank that the door was locked, then they could open it for me. It was, of course, the smartest option I had, but what if something terrible was happening on the other end of the door?

What if Xaivier was hiding something, maybe that's why he locked the door?

The other option I had, was the fact that I could break the door down. Sure, I wasn't the strongest person out there, but you don't have to be strong to break down a door, you simply need an object to help. Deciding it was my best option at hand, I quickly scanned the hallway for anything useful. I came across a small lamp, which sat upon a wooden desk. Rushing over, I placed the small bouquet and lamp onto the floor, then pushed the desk to the door. Once the edge gently nudged against the wooden door, I took a steady grip on the desk, pulled it backwards then quickly pushed it against the frame.

A rumble sounded from the force, but nothing happened.

Trying again, I set myself up then proceeded. Again, nothing resulted from my theory. It wasn't until the tenth or eleventh try that I actually saw some progress. After the seventeenth time, it finally was able to break into pieces. Tiny wooden splinters shattered everywhere, and I made a memo to clean them up later. Making my way around the mess, I looked into the darkened room.

A small creaking sound of the faucet made me turn my head to the bathroom. That door was also closed, but the lighting was shinning past the bottom edges. Inching my way towards the door, I gently knocked.

The water form the faucet automatically stopped, making me worry.

"Xaivier, are you okay?" I asked, so he knew it was me. Though, I felt stupid seeing as I knew he couldn't answer.

After a few moments, I decided to just walk in. I was a little shocked to know that the door wasn't even locked, I guess he didn't expect anyone to open the first door.

Once I pushed open the door, I noticed him sitting on the floor with his back to me. I slowly approached him, my hand outstretched. As I stood behind him, I gently touched his shoulder watching as he flinched.

"Xaivier, what's wrong?" I asked, that feeling of tread pulsing through my body once again. My fingetips brushed over the a small spot on his neck, a gesture that I had hoped would show him that I meant no harm. Except, I felt that it was wet. When I pulled my hand back, I knew exactly what it was.

"Is this blood?" My voice cracked, and I looked up to see Xaivier's reaction.

He just stayed exactly the way he was, his head bowed and back hunched over. Casting a quick glance around the porcelain room, I finally noticed why the feeling I was having came back to me. All around the room were blood stained towels.

My eyes widened, and I grabbed Xaivier's chin to make him look at me. When he did, his eyes were dull, like they were watching a broadcast that had been playing over and over again for hours. Placing my hands on his cheeks, I looked into his eyes. "What did you do, Xaivier?"

I really wished he could answer, because I was a mess. That panicky feeling I had experienced prior to coming into this room, was nothing compared to the turmoil brewing within me. Moving quickly, I grabbed every towel nearby, and held them to his throat, which was bleeding profusely.

Xaivier just sat there, watching my every move.

"Why would you do this to yourself?" I questioned, while looking for more towels. "Do you want to die? Is that it? You just want to give up?" Risking a glance at him over my shoulder, I breathed a sigh of relief once I noticed a different expression on his face, one that was glaring at me.

"Oh you're mad now? Good to know I'm finally getting through your thick skull." My inner turmoil was beginning to find a way through my tear ducts. The pressure behind my eyes was too much for me, and I angrily swiped at my tears. "You may think that death sounds like the best idea right now, but it won't be worth it when you're lying six feet under the ground with no company but yourself."

Xaivier must have noticed my distress, because when I looked back at him again, his glare was gone. Instead he had a solemn expression this time, like he knew exactly what I was talking about and what references I meant.

Grabbing the last towel, I came to sit next to him. Every once in a while, I'd hand Xaivier a new towel to hold to his neck to stop the bleeding. It wasn't until Jane and Frank came bustling into the room that we were unaware of our surroundings.

"What happened in here?" Jane questioned. One look towards the wallowing boy next to me and she was practically in tears.

Walking over to him, she pulled him into her arms, "My poor baby." She wailed, "I thought you'd stop hurting yourself. When will you realize how perfect you are?" Frank joined in soon after, leaving me to soak the bloodied towels. Eventually, all three of them started to leave the room and take Xaivier to the nearest hospital.

But before Xaivier was wisked away, he looked back at me, as I just stood there by myself in the bathroom. For once, I actually saw something meaningful in his eyes, like he broke down his barriers and I could see the answers. His eyes shone with sorrow, something I was familiar with. And at that time, I knew exactly what brought me here.

I had to help save Xaivier, from himself.