Savin' Me

The next thing I knew, I was lying on a bed that I didn't recognize. I didn't know where I was, and I didn't know how I got there.

As I started to look around, I saw a heart monitor, beeping steadily. My arms were bandaged, and I had an IV dripping into my veins, constantly nourishing me.

I stirred slightly, and that was when I felt weight on my leg. Looking down, I realized that Soda was sleeping there, his head right next to my leg. Darry was sitting in a chair near the window, and Pony was on the floor. He looked extremely uncomfortable, sleeping on the tiles. Also...really unsanitary.

Then, like a wave, everything that happened rushed over me. I must have cut so much that I passed out. That was not good.

Soda lifted his head slowly, blinking as he turned to look at me. "Zoe? You awake?"

"Yeah. What happened?" His face pulled closed, like a blind coming down to shield a room from the sunlight, as he reached back to revisit the night before.

"Well, you were going crazy and screaming and breaking mirrors-"

"I know that part," I informed him. "I'm talking about after that."

"I had to break into the bathroom and I found you bleeding everywhere, passed out. I thought you told me that you didn't want to kill yourself. What happened to that, huh? And just when I thought that something was starting-"

"I'm with Johnny," I blurted. Soda's eyes betrayed some emotion before he turned his face to stone. Just like every greaser did. No emotion could be shown because that meant that the guy was weak, a coward. Of course. I was used to that by that time.

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say anything? He should know that you're here then. You told him that you slit your wrists, didn't you? Told him that you just wish that you could end your life?"

"I don't want to die," I snapped. "Just...something happened last night. And I'm not about to tell you because you'd think I was crazy."

Soda let out a little laugh, but it wasn't his his usual one. It was spiteful, almost hateful. "After all that you've admitted to me, have I thought you were crazy yet?"

He shook his head with a disgusted look on his face before turning around, mumbling something about getting something to eat and calling Johnny, before walking out into the hallway.

I immediately felt guilty as I watched him shut the door loudly behind him. On the floor, Pony stirred and pretended like he was just waking up, stirring and yawning widely.

"You don't have to put on a show," I sighed. "I know you heard the whole thing."

Pony blinked a couple of times, keeping up the charade, until he saw my face. As his face fell, he wondered, "So how long has Soda known?"

"A while," I replied, not wanting to admit the truth. I didn't want this turned on Soda, Pony getting angry at him for not saying anything.

"Why did you say something to Soda and not to me? Not to Darry?" Pony looked slightly hurt, which I wasn't expecting. Sure, I liked Pony just fine, but he looked like he was betrayed by his best friend. It didn't really make any sense to me.

"I didn't say anything to Soda," I confessed. "He caught me. I cut too deeply and the bleeding didn't stop in time. I bled through my shirt, and Soda found out. It wasn't like we were hanging out one day and I was just like, 'Oh, you know, Soda, I cut myself. I want to die.' I didn't even want to die."

"Do you now?"

The question seemed innocent enough. To any other person, it would be. But I didn't know. That was the thing.

Instead of answering, I just started to tear up a little bit. The sight in the mirror was scary. I never thought that someone's past could literally haunt them, but it seemed that mine was.

"Do you?" Pony pushed. He was starting to get a little teary, too.

"I don't know. I just don't know." I turned away and stared out the window.

"Well, now you're on suicide watch," Pony informed me. "They're not going to admit you to a mental hospital yet, but if you try to kill yourself again, you will be."

My only answer was a short sniffle. I didn't want to be admitted to a mental hospital, but maybe it was what I needed. Especially after the scene in the mirror.

What about what she said though? Was Dad really coming after me? I let out a shiver at the thought, hoping that it was just something that my crazy mind had fabricated.

"Johnny's on his way," Soda announced. "He's getting a ride from Dally."

"Okay," I replied. We were all quiet for a while, not knowing what to say. The whole thing was pretty damn awkward.

A few minutes later, thankfully, Darry woke up. I never would have thought that I'd be happy that he was up, but I was.

"What were you thinking?" he snapped when his eyes focused on me. "Huh? Why would you want to end your life? I'm sure my parents would have loved to live longer, but their lives were ripped from them. Do you know-"

"Darry," I interrupted, trying to ignore the wavering that was in my voice. He sure had a way of beating people down with his words. "I really don't need a lecture right now, okay? You don't know what was going through my head, and you don't know what I've been through. So don't try to tell me what's right and what's wrong."

He let out a sharp breath through his nose, but he didn't say anything further, thankfully. So Darry could have sense knocked into him. That was good.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on the room, and I wrung my hands together. What seemed like hours, maybe days, later, Johnny walked in with Dally kind of far behind.

"My," Dally expressed sarcastically, "don't you just look fantastic?"

I shot him an annoyed look. "Don't make me throw something at you," I warned.

"How are you doing?" Johnny asked, ignoring the whole exchange. He came over and kissed me on the forehead after brushing some of my hair away.

"I'm alright," I responded. He kept looking at me, as if he was expecting me to explain what happened, but I kept my mouth shut. No one needed to know.

"Knock, knock," a doctor said, making me jump slightly. There was a second spike in the heart monitor, and everyone turned to look at me, hearing the shrill beep.

"Sorry for scaring you," he smiled. His gray eyes were sparkly as he looked down at the clipboard in his hand. "So your arms are all stitched up, and your vitals seem to be back to normal. You're lucky your family found you when they did, Miss Preston."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just stayed quiet. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I was lucky or not. I got another chance at life, but I'd rather die than have an episode like that again.

"All I'd say to the family," the doctor turned to Darry and advised, "is to try to help her get over whatever happened. I'd try to hire a therapist, if possible, to try to get her back where she needs to be mentally. She's not going to be able to get over this on her own."

The doctor patted my leg once before he turned and left.

"Therapist?" Darry scoffed. "How the hell are we going to afford a therapist?"

"We don't need one," I mumbled.

Everyone turned to me to tell me to shut up.