My Opp's Sister

𝟏𝟗

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐲𝐨'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕
𝟑 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫
𝟐:𝟐𝟓𝐚𝐦

"Prince!"

Fuck's sake. I knew crashing at Dave's house was gonna be a bad idea. Why is he yelling my name at 2am in the morning?

Becca got discharged last night. They said she was strong enough to go home. For 3 weeks, I watched her suffer, battling a deadly nerve agent that was basically eating her alive. She's a fuckin fighter.

I hadn't been getting much sleep in that uncomfortable hospital chair, so this mattress was like Heaven. Yet here he is, disturbing my sleep. I swear to God, if he wasn't Santan Dave, I'd kill him.

"Aye Prince!"

The bedroom door opened and my duvet was yanked off me. "What you doin?" I grumbled at Deborah as she stood impatiently at my side with the cover tucked under her arm. "Can you gimme that shit back?"

"You need to come to the kitchen now. She has a knife."

That's when I noticed the space beside me was empty. "A knife?" I got out of bed and rushed to the kitchen. Dave was standing near her, but not too near, almost like he was afraid of what would happen if he got nearer.

Bec stood there. Holding it firm. Even with shaking hands. The tears prickled down her face as she held the knife to her own neck.

"Bae," I said cautiously. "What's goin on? Talk to me, what's goin on in your head?"

"They all want me dead, Cas," she trembled, "I'm not safe anymore. Everyone wants me to die and I have to give them what they want-"

"You don't have to give them anything." I continued speaking in a soft tone. She was seconds away from losing her life and I didn't want that to happen. "You're safe here with me and Dave and Debbie. No one's gonna hurt you."

She shook her head. "It's too late. They want me dead. Nobody wants me to be alive; everyone's trying to kill me. Nobody wants me to live. I can't live anymore."

"I want you to live. Me. Casyo. I need you, Bec, don't give up on me. You can't give up on me, Rebecca. Please don't give up cah I need you here. I need you and you need me. I gotta wake up and see your beautiful face on my chest every day."

"It hurts too much. I can't do it anymore. Everything just hurts; I don't wanna do it anymore."

"You don't have to. I've got you, yeah? We're gonna sort this shit out. Just gimme the knife." I walked slowly towards her with my arm stretched out. The closer I walked, the more the knife slipped. It dropped out of her hands, and I held her tight before she could drop, too.

The way she cried on me - I wanted to cry with her. I genuinely wanted to. Seeing the only person I love so unhappy that they're willing to take their own life makes my chest pang. I actually wanted to break down.

But I stayed strong for her.

"It's ok," I stroked her hair, rubbed her back - did everything I could until she calmed down a little. "Deborah, get me tissue."

She handed me the kitchen towel and I started mopping up Bec's face. "She's been through a lot of trauma. I think she needs professional help. Cuz, God forbid, this happens again, we might not be there to stop her. I know a psychologist; I'll call him later."

I rested my chin on Bec's head, my arms still holding onto her tight. It felt like if I let go, I'd lose her forever. "You tired, mamì?" She nodded slightly. "Come on, let's go sleep."

"I'm sorry, Cas," she hiccuped.

"It's ok. We're gonna get you help. Everything's gonna be fine." I led her up the stairs, to our room and tucked her in bed. Finally, I finished with a kiss on the forehead. "I love you."