⚠️This chapter mentions Drug (Abuse), Suicide, Self Harm, Blood, etc!⚠️
I hope you enjoyyyy!!!
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Day Ten
5:04 AM...
Graham had just brought me more painkillers for my ankle and stomach about an hour ago, but I wasn't feeling any better this time. In fact, I felt nauseous and—even though the basement was pitch black dark, I felt dizzy and as if the room was spinning.
I hardly ate anymore, either, so I really wasn't feeling too hot. I couldn't help it though. Cooper kept mentioning my weight gain, and my anxiety and self image insecurities couldn't handle it anymore. And although I couldn't see too drastic a difference in my weight before and after I stopped eating everything that Graham brought me, I kept up with my dieting since it was still taking some pounds off and putting an end to Cooper's remarks towards my body. That, and I really didn't want to risk getting too big to the point that Giorgi didn't want me anymore whenever we finally reunited. I had to stay skinny for him. He fell in love with me while I was slim and I wanted to maintain my petite figure for my husband.
Graham was way overfeeding me according to Cooper's constant observations about my body, so I just ate about half a palm-sized amount of whatever food the younger man brought me—unless it was soup. Then, I'd finish most of it. Of course he noticed me refusing to eat much of anything but simple broths, and he had asked me why each time he fed me. I never gave Graham an explanation. But the kid was smart. He pieced two and two together rather quickly, and I had heard him start an argument with Cooper regarding my food intake the other day. Or earlier today...? I didn't know.
My time tracking was getting worse, and so was my ability to sleep. Anytime my eyes closed, I'd immediately begin to dream about Giorgi; sitting with him, kissing him, making love with him. They were great dreams. I loved every second of being in his presence when I slept... It was the waking up that made my sleep so troublesome. It was coming to and realizing that we still weren't together that made me want to stay awake and never fall asleep. Well, honestly, I was so exhausted from all the medicine and lack of nutrients in my system... I wouldn't have minded falling asleep, but only if I knew I wouldn't wake up again.
Giorgi was my life, and being without him for so long... I didn't want to live anymore. I didn't want to spend one more day without him... I couldn't.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of what I could use. Graham is really careful about not keeping any pills down here... There are cords and ropes under the stairs near Colin's body...but my legs don't work. I couldn't tie them anywhere to end everything that way... Something sharp... That'd work perfect, and it'd be quick since I'm already so weak...
I crawled around the pitch black basement, and I dragged my hands across the floor, feeling around for any kind of sharp object. Suddenly, my hand grazed over the dead girl's fingers, and I couldn't help the small sob that escaped my vocal chords upon doing so. She was ice cold and stiff as a boulder.
Rebekah... I'm so sorry you died here... I hope you'll forgive me for disrespecting you while you rest, but I really need your help right now... I stifled my crying as I blindly pat her wrists down for any bracelets that may have been long enough to possibly choke myself with. No luck; her arms were bare. I then ran a hand over her still, icy sternum and the back of her neck, feeling for a necklace or chain of any sort. No luck with that either. Lastly, I checked her ears, running my fingers along the backs of them, sighing upon finally touching a piece of jewelry. She had four piercings in each ear, and two of them were brand new. I could tell because the ends of the studs were sharp instead of flat or rounded off like the others.
I know you just got these, but I need them for a little while... I promise I'll give them back when I'm done.
I carefully removed a couple of her new earrings with the sharpened ends and then crawled back over to my corner, staring at the diamond earrings. Or, the imagination of what they looked like. It was so dark, not even a single beam of light hit the diamonds.
Gi-Gi, I'm sorry for being so selfish and weak... But I can't stand being away from you. I can't deal with being Cooper's property anymore. I won't put up with it any longer. I know you're trying your best to find me but your search isn't moving fast enough. I know I'm being stupid and selfish and I'm sorry. Truly, I am. I wish I was stronger but I'm not. I'm afraid, and alone, and exhausted...
I cried as I lifted one of the earrings to my inner elbow, and just as I pushed the needle into my skin, the basement door creaked open. I didn't stop though. I proceeded to drag the earring down my forearm, cutting as deep as I could. Of course, it didn't do much more damage than giving me a shallow slash, so I started sawing at my skin with the needle.
"Cameron," Graham started softly, stepping down the stairs with a sense of urgency. "Cooper left to go out somewhere. I don't know how long he'll be gone but I really want you to get some help. I'll take you to the police, but you have to swear you won't mention me, okay?"
No... No way... He didn't just say that. I'm hallucinating. Have I already lost that much blood...?
"Come on, we have to hurry u—" he froze upon grabbing my bloody left wrist. "Cameron... Please, don't tell me you really did that... Please say it's not real."
I didn't say anything. I felt too angry, overwhelmed, confused, and worn out to do anything. Graham began panicking; he was breathing heavy quick breaths, struggling to pick me up and drag me up the basement stairs, and when he did finally get me up to the kitchen, he tried to stand me at the sink—I assumed to wash my shredded forearm. My ankle was still broken though, and the pain medicine he gave me a while ago wasn't doing much to soothe it, so I couldn't stand. And because I couldn't, he panicked even more.
"Here, I'll just set you right here for a minute while I call Cooper, okay! You're— It's— Y-you're gonna be okay, okay?! Cameron, I promise you're gonna be fine!"
I watched dazedly as he fumbled around with his phone, pacing back and forth in front of me, waiting for Cooper to pick up. "C'mon. Answer, man," he whispered frantically as he lowered his phone from his ear and called again. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon... Pick up, Cooper. It's about Cameron..." the younger man mumbled in a petrified manner as he waited. "No! COME ON! PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE!" He screamed, dialing the psychopath a third time.
Suddenly, my breathing became heavy. My lungs had felt tight and constricted as if I'd just ran a mile or two. An asthma attack, perhaps...? No, this feels induced by something... It feels like an overdose, but I took the same amount of medicine as usual...unless... Did Graham give me more ibuprofen than he typically does? No... he only had the two pills like always...
I tried to clear my throat and breathe in, but it felt like my airway was getting smaller and smaller. In a little panic of my own, I began gasping for oxygen—wheezing horribly. Graham's eyes overflowed with tears as I struggled on the floor, and I could only imagine how miserable I must've looked. Probably just as much as I felt.
I wasn't dying fast enough. With a short, labored breath, I lifted the sharp earring back up to my forearm and tried to saw at it again. Unfortunately, just as I pushed the needle into my slash, Graham had gripped my wrist and snatched the earring from me. "Stop! Please don't touch that anymore," he pleaded, still waiting for Cooper to answer his calls.
All of a sudden, the psychopath barged through the front door, breathing so hard that his chest doubled in size with every inhale he took. "What did you do?! Where's Cameron?!" He seethed before stepping into the kitchen.
"I went down to check on him and—look! He-he-he cut himself again! I didn't know what to do so I called you!" Graham explained quickly.
Cooper abruptly lifted me off the floor, but just as he did, I felt my body beginning to tremble. My shaking got worse and worse by the second, and before I could register anything else, I'd blacked out.
Cooper's POV
My heart sunk to my feet when I saw Cameron. How bloody he was, how broken, and miserable. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to stay locked up until he missed me or realized I was better for him than Giorgi, and fall in love with me. Graham fucked everything up. He didn't make Cameron take his paralysis pills that one day, so I stomped on his legs to make sure he couldn't leave me. I didn't mean to break his ankle but I didn't want to be abandoned! Graham took over feeding him because I didn't know how to cook, and he was building a closer bond with my mo—with Cameron by giving him his painkillers, and constantly checking in on him, and all that other shit!
Graham was the reason my love was feeling so miserable. I knew it. I knew from the jump that working with Graham would be dangerous for him. I should've trusted my gut and pursued Cammy on my own.
With a low grunt, I lifted Cameron off the floor, and scowled when I felt his body trembling. At first I figured he was in shock, so I decided to go ahead and proceed with tossing him over my shoulder and then rush him to the hospital. Just as I maneuvered him to go over my shoulder though, his body started shaking much more violently and I realized he was seizing.
Immediately, I glared over at Graham and chalked up that he had done something. "What did you give him," I growled, carefully lying Cameron flat on the floor.
"I gave him some painkillers last night around 11 but he was still crying and groaning about his ankles so I gave him some more at four something."
"Ibuprofen," I questioned.
Graham shook his head and stuttered for a moment. "I've been giving him fentanyl these past several days because it's almost like instant relief for him," he said. "I didn't think it'd give him any problems since he's been using it for a while and I spaced his second dose out four hours. It's probably because he's starving himself that he's having any issues. You keep telling him that he's getting fat so he keeps refusing to eat, and always makes himself throw up! This is your fault, Cooper!"
"You—" I couldn't believe what he'd just said. I couldn't wrap my head around him giving my Cameron such an addictive and dangerous drug without asking me first. And then trying to blame me for my favorite boy's seizure. "You overdosed him..." I said quietly, stuck in disbelief. Graham just stared at me, saying nothing. "YOU MADE HIM OVERDOSE ON FENTANYL," I fumed, gripping his face with both my hands.
"I tried to help—AH!" I shoved his head against the protruding corner of a wall. "COOPER, STOP!" He screamed desperately as tears fell down his cheeks. But I didn't. I kept smashing his head until he couldn't speak anymore. When his eyes dulled and his legs went limp, I dropped him to the floor and looked at the slightly indented, red-stained corner. A short glance over his bloody face and head could confirm that he was dead, but I was still furious. So, I stomped on him. His hands, his forearms, his elbows and then his shoulders, all until they were mush. I knew I needed to rush Cameron to a hospital, but I couldn't pull myself away. Not until I heard a small whimper leave his mouth.
I snapped my head over to look at him and couldn't help myself from breaking down. "Cameron? Baby, are you okay?" I cried as I pressed my ear over his chest. His heartbeat was slow but steady. But for how much longer, I pondered. I quickly lifted him off the floor, draped his slashed, bleeding arm over my shoulders and grabbed Graham's car keys before ushering my Cammy out the door. I knew he was out of it and it hurt like hell but I needed him to walk with me. I refused to toss him over my shoulder and risk the chance of his blood rushing to his head and making him pass out.
"Come on Cameron, I need you to say something. Say anything. Please," I bawled as I clicked him into his seatbelt. "Please~!" I cried as I rushed to the driver's side. "Come on, Cammy, say something to me..."
I quickly started the car and sped out of the driveway, heading towards the nearest hospital. As I drove, I dialed Giorgi's number. I knew that Cameron would bounce back some if he heard his voice. "Pick up, pick up, pick up," I pleaded, waiting for my call to be answered. He didn't. "COME ON! ANSWER ME, GIORGI!"
I called again, and this time, he answered immediately. "WHERE IS HE, PACON?!" He screamed through my speaker. I pressed my phone against Cameron's ear and prayed that he'd wake up more.
"I need you to meet us as XOX Hospital," I cried helplessly. "Graham gave Cameron an overdose on fentanyl some hours ago and Cam tried to kill himself again by cutting his arm. He's really weak because he hasn't been eating a lot these past several days and I'm really scared for him, Giorgi. I need you to meet us so he can be okay again," I bawled. "He won't talk to me and his eyes are closed~! I can't tell if he's losing a lot of blood or if he's just suffering from the overdose, but I'm freaking out, Giorgi! I-I, I can't lose her again!"
I was sobbing as I sped towards the hospital, hoping that my mom would be okay. Hoping I could save her now that I had another chance. I couldn't imagine losing her a second time; I didn't know what I'd do. I couldn't imagine what I would. My mom, although she hated me, was my everything. Even though I should've hated her just as much as she hated me, I couldn't. I loved her with all my heart and would do anything to keep her safe and alive. Even if it caused me to die.
Within minutes, I had reached the emergency building and I'd rushed her inside as fast as I could. She felt heavier than before and was unresponsive for the most part—only groaning or wheezing quietly as I dragged her through the hospital. "Help! Please," I bawled as a few nurses and doctors sprinted over towards me with a stretcher.
"What happened?" One of them asked as the others helped place my mom onto the gurney.
"Sh-she overdosed because my roommate gave her the wrong amount of medicine an-and she tried to kill herself by cutting her arm and I found her in the kitchen—"
"Who is this," the same doctor questioned, pointing at my mom while the other nurses and doctors ran her to an emergency room. "The young man you brought in—"
"She needs help! She won't talk to me and I'm afraid she can't breathe! She was wheezing and gasping and—"
Suddenly I felt a painfully tight grip around my right bicep and then heard my best friend's voice speak over mine; "Cameron Omartian," he began, speaking to the doctor. "He was just brought inside, right? Where is he?"
"He's the unconscious young man with the cut on his arm," the doctor asked, receiving a pained "yes" from Giorgi. "We've taken him to get fixed up right now. If I could have you both check in with the desk woman and fill out some information—"
"I have to see him," my best friend said sternly. "He's my husband and he's been missing for almost two weeks. Please..."
The doctor looked over at me for a short moment before mumbling something to Giorgi. "He's dealing with some kind of mental issue. He needs to come with me," the Greek man said back.
"Alright," the doctor sighed, leading us through the same hallway that my mom was just ushered through minutes ago.
Giorgi's grasp got tighter and tighter around my arm as we followed the doctor, and when we finally reached the operating room, his grip squeezed even harder to the point that I could hear my bones cracking and breaking under the pressure.
Upon the doctor letting us inside, Giorgi began breathing heavily and shakily. His heartbeat was so loud and quick as he took in the devastating—horrendous view of my mom that I could almost feel it punching my eardrums. "What's wrong with him," Giorgi inquired, running his fingers through her hair.
"He's got a broken ankle, he's severely malnourished and a little dehydrated, and he is suffering from a fentanyl overdose. The slash on his forearm isn't very deep so he hasn't lost too much blood, but he has absolutely lost a good amount and we need to get him hooked up to some more very quickly. Would you happen to know his blood type?"
"She's type A," I answered quickly.
"My husband's blood type is AB, but I'm O negative so I can help him out, right?" Giorgi said, his voice wavering.
Nurses quickly confirmed and moved around the room to hook my best friend up to start giving his blood, and when I tried to go over and check on my mom, Giorgi squeezed my arm and made me stand beside him.
"Don't move," he said, his harsh tone and domineering glare compelling me to stay still. That, and knowing that if I'd disobeyed Giorgi he'd cut me out of his life for good; I couldn't lose him. He was like my big brother. He kept me in check and made sure I stayed out of trouble for the most part...
"I didn't mean for her to get hurt," I mumbled.
"Why do you hurt everyone I love," he groused. "Piper. Your mother. Cameron... Why?"
I stared down at the floor and frowned as tears rolled down my face. "I never meant to... I just get really worked up... I get really jealous... Because they love you more," I admitted.
Giorgi didn't say anything for a short while; he just shook his head. "It was never a matter of them loving me more. It's just that you make people feel as if they're...less."
I tried to analyze what I could've done to make anyone feel bad, but couldn't think of anything. "I don't think that's right."
"Nobody expected you to."
"Seriously, I think everyone likes me until they meet you. You're meaner than I am, yet people favor you... I've always felt like I lived in your shadow."
"For sure," Giorgi scoffed, shaking his head as he rubbed over my mom's leg.
"Getting rid of the people who shined their spotlight on you has been my way of coping with that, I think," I admitted. "But I could never do anything remotely close to killing Cameron..."
"What, you mean 'your mom'," Giorgi asked. "You let Graham overdose him, and you neglected him so much that he tried to kill himself."
"That wasn't my—"
"You said he hasn't been eating lately, but it looks like you just haven't been feeding him."
"That's not true. None of it. Graham was at fault every time. He snuck medicine down to Cameron when I slept, he kept dead bodies in the basement so Cameron went crazy, and Cameron never ate what I brought him because he didn't trust me, and he didn't like eating all the food that Graham brought him because I poked fun at him a while ago when I saw that he was a little bloated from eating all of his dinner one night. Graham ruined everything I had planned for Cameron," I explained. Giorgi's veins popped out more from his neck and the side of his head, and I frowned when his grip squeezed around my already broken bicep. "Giorgi, stop!"
"So, where's Graham, then?"
"Dead on his kitchen floor," I answered easily. "Will you let go of my arm? You've already broken it."
"Show me."
"If you would move your hand I probably could," I groused.
"Graham."
Oh. "You don't want to wait for Cameron to wake up? Plus, you're giving blood right now."
"He's malnourished, with a broken bone, fighting an overdose. He's not going to wake up for some hours."
"Still."
"Show. Me. Graham."
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I hope you enjoyedddd!!!