We're in the bush.
Yep. I said it.
We're still, in. The. Bush.
We couldn't move because, one, if we do so much as peak our heads out we both know our dumb asses are bound to get shredded into pieces.
Two, Santi is getting... let's just say light headed from the amount of blood loss and is in no condition to even get on his feat.
I already ripped off a piece of his shirt and tied it around his wound, unfortunately... it didn't help that much.
Time was running out and we only had two options, stay here and wait it out 'till we could at least see clearly... or make a run for it.
The bad thing is that in both of those options somebody's gonna die.
Not gonna lie, the stress was really getting to me. It pushed down and compressed my lungs; squeezing my heart while at it.
The next thing I know, I'm in Santi's weak, shaking arms as I have a silent panic attack.
He tried his best to comfort me while staying half awake at the same time.
His words of comfort just came out as slurred gibberish and as I laid my head against his chest, I could barely hear his own heart slowing down with every minute that passes by.
It killed me to know in the matter of hours, no matter what, he just might not make it.
He wanted to do a lot.
He wanted to be there for Lilly, his one and only daughter, for when she starts school. He wanted to be there for her when she got her first boyfriend.
He wanted to help and take care of my sister.
He still has a lot to achieve in life and he might just feel the cold clutches of death dragging him away before he could actually fulfill them.
As much as I acted like I hated Santi, I deeply respected him.
He was really the best guy my sister would ever meet.
Santi shakily took both of his hands and cupped
my face in them, forcing me to look up at him. As much as I was
disgusted with
the fact that his hands were literally caked in blood... I couldn't find the
strength to pull my face away.
All I did was accept his warm touch, craving for some type of affection as silent tears aggressively ran down my cheeks.
"It's going to be ok." He whispered.
With that sentence... I just bursted into more tears.
The reason why is because that sentence... it... it was a lie.
A comforting little lie... and I know it.
Looking into his glossy, brown eyes I could even tell that he was trying so hard to convince himself, too.
I gently wrapped my arms around his waist and resumed back to resting my head on his chest.
His chin perched upon the top of my head.
Letting the eerie silence consume us both.
"Hey, so... I know that this is, like, really off topic, but... what the fuck happened to your hair?" Santi tried his hardest to project his voice, failing awfully as it just came out raspy.
I stifled a laugh and sat on my knees, peeling myself off of him and staring into his eyes.
"We're both about to die... and you want to talk about my hair?" I snickered, whipping away my tears with the palms of my hands.
"I mean, yeah! Just because we're dying doesn't mean I'm gonna stop teasing you.
Isn't your hair a little too short for a girl?" He wheezed.
I but my lip nervously and ran my fingers through the curly mess on top of my head.
Santi's expression quickly dropped.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that!" He tried to reassure me, going even further by reaching towards me and putting a hand on my shoulder.
"No, it's fine!" I nervously giggled, swatting his hand away playfully.
Santi's face immediately lit up like the lights on a
Christmas tree.
"Hey, um... when we get outta here... I could take you
to a real hair dresser and... they could
actually fix up your hair.
You could
keep the style though,
it really does makes you look like a complete badass!"
I smiled shyly at his request, suddenly feeling a warm sensation tingling throughout my chest.
"Yeah, that... would actually be kinda nice."
Suddenly, a cold laugh escaped my lips as a sharp feeling of guilt spread through my body like wildfire and a certain thought crossed my mind.
"Y'know, Santi. You don't have to act like you care about me... I know very well that you don't.
It's ok though... nobody really does."
My hand subconsciously tugged at my hair.
"But... but I do." He answered innocently, his eyes widening and his lips tugging into a frown.
My lips pressed together tightly to the point where it hurt.
"Is... is that what you told your kidnapper?" His voice suddenly sounded like it was pierced by glass.
"Don't even start to play dumb.
I read the texts between
That... that monster
and Mary.
We care about you Jamie! I don't know why you think we do-"
"Half of the time
I don't even feel like I exist!
The only time you guys ever
acknowledge
me is when
you need to ask for a favour
or... or to
compare me to
oh so perfect Mary!" I deadpanned, my voice coming out harsher than I really intended.
Santi froze immediately. His mouth opening and closing a few times, making him look like a fucking fish.
"Jamie... you really think we feel that way?"
He furrowed his brows and his expression wasn't sad any more... at was more of complete anger.
"You're not the only one who had a hard time, Jamie.
We all did.
Your parents were even harder on Mary than you... she only always smiled because she didn't want you to see her sad." He started
"Your parents don't know how to communicate and they tried to reach out to you... but you always pushed them away!
They didn't know how to! And... and... we're trying so hard to help you! You just don't let us!"
"Mary, your parents, and I are working harder to give you extra money to... to help you!
The only reason Mary and I moved is so that we could get a bigger house so you could... live with us-" Santi broke down into a shallow cry... and I just sat there watching him.
"And... and when you disappeared... your mother got a heart attack and Mary is now going through this great state of depression... I don't know what to do."
I silently reached over to him and gave him a hug, feeling his hands clutch onto me desperately.
I held him tightly, whispering inaudible 'I'm sorry's into his ear.
"I'm so selfish, dammit." I sighed, burying my face into his blue sweater.
We stayed that way for what seemed like hours, silently comforting each other.
My mind tries it's best to process everything that Santi said and I could feel the weight on my heart and lungs squishing even harder... making me feel even more shallow.
Am I really that bad of a person?
Santi slowly pulled away, giving me a weak smile.
"I think... I think it's safe to say we can try and head back home... I mean, we have to go fix your hair!"
I burst out laughing as I pull Santi's left arm over my shoulder, helping him get to his feet.
We both start to cautiously walk (and limp) away... ready to finally get away from the mess Natalie has created.