Romeo Save Me
Five in the afternoon.
It was five in the afternoon when I finally woke up. Too bad the sleep wasn’t endless. I didn’t want to have to end my own life, but it was the only way out; the only way to end the pain.
I got up and waddled over to the mirror. The bruises that lay upon me were paired with scars, cuts or grazes. None were left unpaired and that was what made the pain so much worse.
I turned around to the discolored view that had been left on my shoulder. Blood had trickled down to my waistline and bruises had only just started to appear. Amongst the mess, a signature was left in perfect cursive handwriting.
I got a hand towel and started to dab at the blood, grimacing with every touch. Eventually, I had wiped enough blood off for it to start flowing again. Looking at the clock, I groaned. And then I noticed another thing. It was Thursday, not Monday. I must have been unconscious for a while. My shoulder needed trained medical help, not my face washer, so I got in the car and drove one handed down to the hospital.
I checked in and sat in the waiting area, eventually dosing off.
“Abby Doittery?”
I snorted.
“Abby Doittery? The doctor is ready to see you now,” somebody shook my shoulder. That woke me up.
“GAH,” I screamed, leaping out of my chair.
The doctor walked into his little room with a gesture for me to follow. I did.
“So what seems to be the problem today, Miss Doittery?” He asked as I sat down.
Words could not explain the unnatural sight on my shoulder so I just decided to face my back to him and expose enough flesh for the wound to show.
“Oh, good heavens, what happened here?” he poked at my shoulder and I flinched but didn’t answer. Tears clung to my eyes.
I turned back around to face him again with a quizzical face, as if I was mute.
“I’ll get you into surgery as soon as possible.”
I nodded.
“How long has it been like this?”
“Monday evening,” I whispered.
“Why have you left it so long?” he started to inspect it with more care.
“I was unconscious.”
“Oh,” was all he could say.
20 minutes later
Before I knew it we were down the hallway in the surgery unit and my shoulder had been numbed by the anesthesia. It felt good to only have to concentrate on the bruises because they didn’t hurt as much.
I paid for the surgery, the sling and pain relievers, feeling more relaxed now. I was starting school tomorrow and I didn’t want everybody looking at me whilst I cried out in pain.
My parents knew what happened every midnight… they tried to stop everything but had had no luck. Eventually we all gave up and left fate to decide itself. It wasn’t a very good decider, but other people have suffered worse. So my parents decided to enroll me at a new school, where the students wouldn’t think I had gone crazy and I could start afresh.
What I didn’t want to tell them was that I had decided to have no friends, because I didn’t want them to get hurt either.
Another thing I hadn’t told them was that a year from today, if this pain hasn’t gone away, I would take my life.
365 days left.
I got up and waddled over to the mirror. The bruises that lay upon me were paired with scars, cuts or grazes. None were left unpaired and that was what made the pain so much worse.
I turned around to the discolored view that had been left on my shoulder. Blood had trickled down to my waistline and bruises had only just started to appear. Amongst the mess, a signature was left in perfect cursive handwriting.
I got a hand towel and started to dab at the blood, grimacing with every touch. Eventually, I had wiped enough blood off for it to start flowing again. Looking at the clock, I groaned. And then I noticed another thing. It was Thursday, not Monday. I must have been unconscious for a while. My shoulder needed trained medical help, not my face washer, so I got in the car and drove one handed down to the hospital.
I checked in and sat in the waiting area, eventually dosing off.
“Abby Doittery?”
I snorted.
“Abby Doittery? The doctor is ready to see you now,” somebody shook my shoulder. That woke me up.
“GAH,” I screamed, leaping out of my chair.
The doctor walked into his little room with a gesture for me to follow. I did.
“So what seems to be the problem today, Miss Doittery?” He asked as I sat down.
Words could not explain the unnatural sight on my shoulder so I just decided to face my back to him and expose enough flesh for the wound to show.
“Oh, good heavens, what happened here?” he poked at my shoulder and I flinched but didn’t answer. Tears clung to my eyes.
I turned back around to face him again with a quizzical face, as if I was mute.
“I’ll get you into surgery as soon as possible.”
I nodded.
“How long has it been like this?”
“Monday evening,” I whispered.
“Why have you left it so long?” he started to inspect it with more care.
“I was unconscious.”
“Oh,” was all he could say.
20 minutes later
Before I knew it we were down the hallway in the surgery unit and my shoulder had been numbed by the anesthesia. It felt good to only have to concentrate on the bruises because they didn’t hurt as much.
I paid for the surgery, the sling and pain relievers, feeling more relaxed now. I was starting school tomorrow and I didn’t want everybody looking at me whilst I cried out in pain.
My parents knew what happened every midnight… they tried to stop everything but had had no luck. Eventually we all gave up and left fate to decide itself. It wasn’t a very good decider, but other people have suffered worse. So my parents decided to enroll me at a new school, where the students wouldn’t think I had gone crazy and I could start afresh.
What I didn’t want to tell them was that I had decided to have no friends, because I didn’t want them to get hurt either.
Another thing I hadn’t told them was that a year from today, if this pain hasn’t gone away, I would take my life.
365 days left.
♠ ♠ ♠
To school she goes, with whom she flows, nobody knows.Did you like it?