Hey look I'm not dead!!
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Injury
-Blood
-Stitches
Song is Stitches by Shawn Mendes (yes this is inspired by my autistic brain not understanding the metaphors at all when I was younger)
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Agonizingly slow crawl after agonizingly slow crawl, Emma dragged herself to her apartment. Her leg was on fire, and she barely had the willpower to keep going, but she did.
It took too long, and by the time she reached her front door, her vision threatened to go black, but she forced herself to go inside first. Inside she was safe.
Making her way to the bathroom, her mind wandered. Shit, she had to patch herself up, didn't she? All she wanted was to pass out, but waking up after was a close second, so she kept going.
When Emma eventually sat on the bathroom tiles, with her hand closed around the pipe sticking from her leg, her mind yelled at her to stop, but she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, and pulled.
Fucfuckshitshitfuckshitfuck. Agonizing pain washed over her, and she cried out, still holding the bloody pipe tightly, though it wasn't attached to her leg anymore.
Through the blur of her vision, she poured some antiseptic from her medkit onto her leg, praying that was enough for it to not get infected.
After she finally stopped hyperventilating, the sudden silence was almost deafening, and she reached for the small bathroom speaker, hoping that some music might distract her, that some non-violent songs would help her to ignore the trauma from today.
Of course, the local radio was down, nothing more than static coming from the speaker, so she had to press some buttons to find another station, and finally forced herself to stop stalling and pick up the suture kit. Her hands trembled like crazy, and the swaying of her vision certainly didn't help to thread the needle.
"Up next, Stitches, by Shawn Mendes," a cheery voice came from the radio.
Emma let out a strained laugh. "How appropriate."
I thought that I've been hurt before , but no one's ever left me quite this sore.
Of course. Paul. She might've been the one to send him away, but she didn't think he'd actually go, leaving her to die alone on the beach.
Your words cut deeper than a knife . Now I need someone to breathe me back to life.
When the string finally slid through the eye of the needle, she felt nothing but dread, terrified of what she would have to do next. Nausea overtook her, but it was hard to tell what caused it; the sight of the gory wound, or the blood she continued to lose.
Got a feeling that I'm going under, but I know that I'll make it out alive.
Alive. That was the goal, wasn't it? Start a pot farm, maybe even with him by her side. God, the things she'd do to have him here, cracking jokes that she'd pretend to be unwanted, but would do a great job at distracting her.
If I quit calling you my lover, move on.
Now she might not ever see him again, and sits alone in the dim bathroom, staring at the needle in her hand. Let's do this.
You watch me bleed until I can't breathe. I'm shaking, falling onto my knees.
Flash! Bang! The helicopter went down too fast, sending her to tumble down, not even knowing what impaled her leg.
And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.
Yeah, and she spat blood in his face, ruining what might've been her only chance to feel his lips against hers.
Tripping over myself, aching, begging you to come help . And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.
Taking a deep breath, she plunged the needle into her skin.
Just like a moth drawn to a flame . Oh, you lured me in I couldn't sense the pain.
Maybe the fact that he left her meant he only cared about her because she was his ally, the one keeping him alive. Still, she clung to the memories, and they were the only thing keeping her going as she continued to weave her skin back together.
Your bitter heart cold to the touch. Now I'm gonna reap what I sow. I'm left seeing red on my own.
Despite the agonizing pain shooting up her leg with every movement, Emma felt numb, adrenalin replaced by exhaustion. But she kept going.
Got a feeling that I'm going under , but I know that I'll make it out alive.
Her breathing hitched and her vision swayed as she poked the needle in again, only half of the first wound closed by now.
If I quit calling you my lover , move on.
In, out, tie the ends together. Take a deep breath, and repeat.
You watch me bleed until I can't breathe. I'm shaking, falling onto my knees.
The lights above the mirror flickered, making it even harder to focus on stopping the bleeding.
And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.
Tears streamed down her face, but the row was almost complete. Almost halfway done, she thought to herself.
Tripping over myself , aching, begging you to come help.
She barely had the energy to keep holding the needle between her fingers, let alone maneuver it through her skin, but she didn't have a choice. Not if she'd want to see Paul ever again.
And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.
Her hands were trembling as she cut the string, and changed her position so she got a good view of the other wound.
Needle and the thread
Gotta get you outta my head
Needle and the thread
Gonna wind up dead
Needle and the thread
Gotta get you outta my head
Needle and the thread
Gonna wind up dead
Needle and the thread
Gotta get you outta my head
Needle and the thread
Gonna wind up dead
Snip. Emma let herself fall onto her back after cutting the string, panting heavily. It was done.
Needle and the thread , gotta get you outta my head, get you outta my head.
She poured a bit of antiseptic over the stitched wound and covered it with a bandage, before heaving herself upright.
You watch me bleed until I can't breathe. I'm shaking, falling onto my knees.
She slowly made her way to her bedroom, dragging her leg behind her and using the walls for support.
And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.
Letting herself collapse on the bed, Emma cursed. The painkillers were still in the bathroom.
Tripping over myself , aching, begging you to come help.
She turned onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut, just wanting to escape from the mess that was the apocalypse.
And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.
Tomorrow she would worry about Paul, right now, rest was her number one priority.
And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.
Her body relaxed as soon as she allowed it to, and she drifted off to sleep.
And now that I'm without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches.