Sequel: Running With Scissors ›
Those Worse Off Than You
Part 37
"Ace," I called and my clammy fingers wrapped around the doorhandle, gently pushing in outwards. Something was behind it, stopping it from opening. With a little bit more force, I forced open the door and imediately stopped breathing, and knelt on the floor. "Oh my god..."
"Ace, wake up," I whispered, lightly touching his cold, plae skin. It took a while before I was able to take in the entire surroundings. A broken mirror, shattered across the floor, and my dearest friend lying in a mess of glass, vomit and his own blood. A brave cold tear fell down my face, being the first of many as I called out for help and held onto Ace for dear life, thinking maybe it would do something for him.
Within seconds, three adults and a group of kids were gathered in the doorway. "Somebody help him," I screamed, even though I knew they had already done all they could; call 911.
The next hour or two was a mess in my mind. There were paramedics, and ambulances, and flashing lights and sirens and it was really loud and chaotic... and after that, everything seemed like a clean atmosphere; white, brightly lit, quiet. I had been sitting in the chair for too long- just waiting for them to say something; anything. But most importantly, I just wanted them to say he was okay.
I just wanted them to say that he hadn't cut too deep, and he was awake, and I could see him. But the pessimistic side of me told me that a big man in a white coat was going to come out, and announce my second friend's death.
My parhad found out, and they appeared at my side no sooner than I had realized them there. It didn't help; even though all they were doing was trying to comfort me.
"Ace, wake up," I whispered, lightly touching his cold, plae skin. It took a while before I was able to take in the entire surroundings. A broken mirror, shattered across the floor, and my dearest friend lying in a mess of glass, vomit and his own blood. A brave cold tear fell down my face, being the first of many as I called out for help and held onto Ace for dear life, thinking maybe it would do something for him.
Within seconds, three adults and a group of kids were gathered in the doorway. "Somebody help him," I screamed, even though I knew they had already done all they could; call 911.
The next hour or two was a mess in my mind. There were paramedics, and ambulances, and flashing lights and sirens and it was really loud and chaotic... and after that, everything seemed like a clean atmosphere; white, brightly lit, quiet. I had been sitting in the chair for too long- just waiting for them to say something; anything. But most importantly, I just wanted them to say he was okay.
I just wanted them to say that he hadn't cut too deep, and he was awake, and I could see him. But the pessimistic side of me told me that a big man in a white coat was going to come out, and announce my second friend's death.
My parhad found out, and they appeared at my side no sooner than I had realized them there. It didn't help; even though all they were doing was trying to comfort me.