Running Wild in the Night
This is Just a Courtesy Call
"Nikki, I promise, no one's here," Jimmy yelled.
"LIAR!"
We've been at this for over an hour now. We figured out that it was the radio that triggered it but we turned it off but Nikki still thinks that there are people here that are out to get her. We've done practically everything to try and convince her that no one is here but she's obsessed. "Nikki, please, its only us," Mrs. Sullivan yelled.
"Please, just stay away from me," she said, crying.
For some reason, part of me was torn when I heard her cry. I don't know why, but it hurts hearing that poor girl cry. She’s gone through Hell and hearing her cry was just heartbreaking.
"No one's going to hurt you," I yelled, trying to help out.
Amazingly, there was no response. She didn't yell back but she also didn't open the door. Jimmy and his dad immediately pressed their ears to her door, hoping that they could find any clue of what she was doing. They found none. I watched as Jimmy took a paperclip and used it to pick the lock to her door. It opened. We all followed him as he cautiously walked into Nikki's room.
When we entered her room, Nikki wasn't anywhere. The window was locked and the only other way out was the door so she had to be in her room but she was no where to be found.
"Where is she," Mrs. Sullivan whispered.
Val gasped and that signaled to all of us that she found Nikki. There, laying in her closet was an unconscious Nikki. In her hand was a small knife with blood staining the blade. My eyes widened in fear when I saw the source of the blood.
"Oh my god."
Nikki's POV
"Well, Mr. Sullivan, Mrs. Sullivan, your niece will be fine. She has suffered minor blood lost but with some rest, she'll be fine."
I heard someone telling my aunt and uncle that but I had no heart to open my eyes. I just wanted to lay here and sleep, hopefully die so I could finally escape reality.
Why'd they take me in? I wonder that everyday. I mean, I'm a seventeen year old girl recovering from a heroin addiction who's anti-social and lost my ability to paint and they still take me in. Who would want me considering how fucked up I am. I seriously don't get it.
As I laid there, I heard some footsteps walk out the door, the door closing behind them. I still didn't want to open my eyes but I knew I was slowly regaining my strength.
"I know you're awake," I heard someone whisper.
I finally opened my eyes and saw Brian sitting on a chair, looking at me. "Why are you here," I asked.
"You freaked out."
"I know that but why are you here," I whispered.
"I was worried. Everyone was worried and they're all here, too. We all switch off staying with you while everyone else is getting something to eat. They're supposed to bring me back something," he answered.
I nodded and sighed. "You know, this is the most I've heard you speak," Brian said.
I glanced at him and saw that he was smiling. Part of me felt butterflies in my stomach, the other didn't feel a damn thing. "Well, I'm not much of a talker."
"I can tell. You know, all of us want to be your friend and help you."
"I never had friends."
"That's sad. But you have some now."
"Who'd want to be friends with someone as fucked up as me," I asked him.
Brian just sighed and said, "You're not fucked up. You just never had people there for you."
"That's right. I never had people there for me so give me a good reason why I should trust you."
"Because we all care about you. Nikki, we all see how much you mean to Jimmy. He spends a lot of time in school, worrying his ass off about you."
That simple statement brought some shock into me. Jimmy worries about me? "Why?"
"You're his cousin, Nikki. You're his family," Brian said, calmly.
I looked at him then at the edge of the bed. People care about me?
"Nikki, we all care about you. Just talk to us."
"I almost died once," I said, out of the blue, ignoring what he said earlier, "I let someone else shoot me up and I could have died. No one really helped me after that and that was a courtesy call to me telling me that I had no one. If what you're telling me is true and that I do have people that care about me, then I guess this is another courtesy call telling me that I'm not supposed to die just yet."
"That's right," Brian said, taking my hand in his and stroking my thumb with his, "This is just a courtesy call for you."
"LIAR!"
We've been at this for over an hour now. We figured out that it was the radio that triggered it but we turned it off but Nikki still thinks that there are people here that are out to get her. We've done practically everything to try and convince her that no one is here but she's obsessed. "Nikki, please, its only us," Mrs. Sullivan yelled.
"Please, just stay away from me," she said, crying.
For some reason, part of me was torn when I heard her cry. I don't know why, but it hurts hearing that poor girl cry. She’s gone through Hell and hearing her cry was just heartbreaking.
"No one's going to hurt you," I yelled, trying to help out.
Amazingly, there was no response. She didn't yell back but she also didn't open the door. Jimmy and his dad immediately pressed their ears to her door, hoping that they could find any clue of what she was doing. They found none. I watched as Jimmy took a paperclip and used it to pick the lock to her door. It opened. We all followed him as he cautiously walked into Nikki's room.
When we entered her room, Nikki wasn't anywhere. The window was locked and the only other way out was the door so she had to be in her room but she was no where to be found.
"Where is she," Mrs. Sullivan whispered.
Val gasped and that signaled to all of us that she found Nikki. There, laying in her closet was an unconscious Nikki. In her hand was a small knife with blood staining the blade. My eyes widened in fear when I saw the source of the blood.
"Oh my god."
Nikki's POV
"Well, Mr. Sullivan, Mrs. Sullivan, your niece will be fine. She has suffered minor blood lost but with some rest, she'll be fine."
I heard someone telling my aunt and uncle that but I had no heart to open my eyes. I just wanted to lay here and sleep, hopefully die so I could finally escape reality.
Why'd they take me in? I wonder that everyday. I mean, I'm a seventeen year old girl recovering from a heroin addiction who's anti-social and lost my ability to paint and they still take me in. Who would want me considering how fucked up I am. I seriously don't get it.
As I laid there, I heard some footsteps walk out the door, the door closing behind them. I still didn't want to open my eyes but I knew I was slowly regaining my strength.
"I know you're awake," I heard someone whisper.
I finally opened my eyes and saw Brian sitting on a chair, looking at me. "Why are you here," I asked.
"You freaked out."
"I know that but why are you here," I whispered.
"I was worried. Everyone was worried and they're all here, too. We all switch off staying with you while everyone else is getting something to eat. They're supposed to bring me back something," he answered.
I nodded and sighed. "You know, this is the most I've heard you speak," Brian said.
I glanced at him and saw that he was smiling. Part of me felt butterflies in my stomach, the other didn't feel a damn thing. "Well, I'm not much of a talker."
"I can tell. You know, all of us want to be your friend and help you."
"I never had friends."
"That's sad. But you have some now."
"Who'd want to be friends with someone as fucked up as me," I asked him.
Brian just sighed and said, "You're not fucked up. You just never had people there for you."
"That's right. I never had people there for me so give me a good reason why I should trust you."
"Because we all care about you. Nikki, we all see how much you mean to Jimmy. He spends a lot of time in school, worrying his ass off about you."
That simple statement brought some shock into me. Jimmy worries about me? "Why?"
"You're his cousin, Nikki. You're his family," Brian said, calmly.
I looked at him then at the edge of the bed. People care about me?
"Nikki, we all care about you. Just talk to us."
"I almost died once," I said, out of the blue, ignoring what he said earlier, "I let someone else shoot me up and I could have died. No one really helped me after that and that was a courtesy call to me telling me that I had no one. If what you're telling me is true and that I do have people that care about me, then I guess this is another courtesy call telling me that I'm not supposed to die just yet."
"That's right," Brian said, taking my hand in his and stroking my thumb with his, "This is just a courtesy call for you."