You're both sat in the bedroom, when an alert on Peter's computer catches your attention:
'Hey! I'm ready to call when you are! -Daniel xx'
I look up at him, almost asking 'Who's Daniel?'. He answers back, saying "Oh Daniel is my editor. We go on calls to record the videos, and talk about how to edit them, etc. Do you want to join the call with me?" I nod, wanting to see what he does for his work, especially since he already knows my job.
~Time Skip~
I sit by Peter, listening to his conversation with Daniel. I watch how Daniel looks at him. I feel like I got in the way. Without me, would they both be happy without me? Would Peter live a better life? My thoughts spiral deeper, a single tear rolls down my cheek as I remember sitting on the floor, knife in hand, blood spilling down my body, carving into my arms, a twisted art. I don't realise, but the whole time my eyes leak fountains in silence, a small puddle gathering in my lap.
I want to die.
Peter looks at me worriedly, asking me if I'm ok. I cry. All I know right now is the pain that I feel. This man made my life so much worse, and I want it all to end. It's all his fault to it's all my fault, switching from one to the other. I want it to stop.
I snap out of it when Peter envelopes me in his arms, holding me close and calming me down. We sit in silence as my head adjusts to life. I feel derealized as I constantly have to ground myself, drifting of into a distant dream when unfocused. He eventually continues talking with Daniel, but I can't help but cry. My memory almost becomes fuzzy in present time, parts blurry and missing whenever I snap right back.
~Time Skip~
I eventually am carried into the living room to watch TV. Peter puts on my favourite movie to distract me. It works for a little while, but I get bored and start looking around. I mess around and fidget with my blanket and make the dreaded mistake of lifting it up. I'm still not used to missing a leg, and once I see it I feel bile in my mouth, my throat burning and choking. I can't breath and my mouth leaks a red-green acid, spit lingering on my lips. I don't want to bother Peter, so I crawl off the couch, into the kitchen, grab the roll of paper towels, and attempt to mop up the vomit. The smell still lingers behind, so I spray at it with air freshener. The smell is muffled, so I work on getting the vile taste out of my mouth, off of my tongue. I sit up and lean against the kitchen counter, trying to pour myself a glass of water. When I finally achieve it, I quickly chug down the cold water, suffice at removing the horrible taste from my mouth. I crawl back onto the sofa in time for the movie to end and Peter to return.
"Hey darling, I'm back-!" He takes a look around, eyes finally locking onto me.
"What happened?" His eyes harsh, pupils small and eyes wide, mouth in a stern grimace, face shadowed over.
Fuck I'm scared.
.
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[565 words]