Death May Disagree

Chapter 7

She's the first thing I see when I open the door. I'm too scared to move because of the blood, because she's sprawled out on the carpet with cuts down her arm. I feel my own blood draining, but I will myself to step closer, my eyes trained on her face. She sees me, but she's struggling to keep her eyes open, and I wonder why neither of us are screaming.

I'm kneeling beside her, not wanting to touch her but wanting to stop the bleeding somehow. Doom stands by the door. The female agent has disappeared, but Doom's head is in profile, looking at the empty space as though she were still there. I call out to him to help me. I tell him I don't know what to do.

Doom hesitates at first, his jaw clenching. Then in one fluid motion, he enters the room, closing the door behind him. He takes my hand, and leads me into the kitchen. Grabbing the towel hanging on the refrigerator door handle, he drapes it over my arm with a firm grip.

"I have to go," he says suddenly.

"No, wait! There's too much blood. I can't do this by myself!"

"If you keep screaming like this, someone's going to call the cops," he says and disappears before I can yell at him.

I dial 911 and use the kitchen towel to apply pressure on the cuts, just as the dispatcher instructs. I try not to shake, but I'm squeamish and the blood gets on my hands. The ambulance arrives in under five minutes, and they roll the girl out in one. Digging my hands deep into my pockets, I squeeze my way through the gathering crowd. Every tenant on the floor is out in the hall, including Annie. Behind her is everyone who came to celebrate Friendsmas, but I'm too far away for them to recognize.

In my haste to save the girl, I didn't notice the two missed calls from Demi and Olivia from earlier this evening. I ran down the stairs with no particular destination in mind, just the need for some place far and with fresh air. I wander around Annie's neighborhood until I can stop picturing the blood, and drive back to my dorm room at 11pm. Seeing as Demi and Olivia have not returned, knowing that they might return at any time, I rush to the bathroom to take a quick, hot shower, putting my clothes in a bag to be laundered and disposed of later.

At midnight, when everyone asks me if I'm still coming to the Friendsmas party, I tell them that I had to rush home for a family emergency. They don't ask me what it is, so it gives me time to come up with an excuse before I see them again for winter quarter. Then when Demi calls to detail the events of a few hours ago, with the sirens and the girl with the many cuts, I pretend to listen with rapt attention. Nobody in the apartment knew for sure why she - Victoria Hovell - did it, but rumor has it that she's going to have a full recovery.

I want to add to the conversation my version of the story, a version only I would know because I was there. There was the panic in her eyes, the low moaning of pain, her one call for her mom before passing out; there were the cuts that looked like they were reopened but not sliced with the same precision, and the bloody razor blade still gripped between her forefinger and thumb. Maybe Victoria wasn't done cutting when I barged in. Maybe she was about to make the final slit in her wrist before I caught her in the act.

I speak from experience when I say that when somebody is set on dying, nobody matters as much as they did before. In the moment before suicide, all thoughts of loved ones are replaced with agony and despair. I was at that point when I tried to kill myself back then, but I knew I wasn't strong enough without a catalyst, which is why I needed Rosaline. I don't remember if it was for her company or for the guilt and regret that would come with murdering her that I needed, but I would have gone through with my suicide if it hadn't been for Doom, or any stranger that witnessed something as private and personal as that.

All I did was soak up the blood. I didn't stop Victoria from killing herself. She did that on her own, the same way I did when I saw Doom. I'm still angry at Doom at the end of my drive, remembering how he disappeared when he knew I needed his help. He could have collected whatever souls needed collecting that night after patching up Victoria, but he didn't seem to be willing to do so. That kind of nonchalance, above all, is what hurts me the most, and I can't do anything else but cry.