Pretend

Rex was paddling at the sliding door, his eyes desperate. I was trying so desperately hard to understand what was going on here. The text. Seb's confused blubbering. His idiotic slurs. The deafening music. My heart was pounding so hard that I couldn't hear much else.

And when I'd reached the sliding door, noted the mess and the blood and Seb, rocking on the floor like he was incredible pain, I'd practically lost it.

I yanked at the door handle, but it was locked. I could feel the sting of frustrated tears in my eyes. What had Seb done now? Why did he have to go completely off the wall tonight?

Rex started barking, and it startled me. I was breathing quickly, banging on the door, subconsciously yelling at Seb. What was going on? What had he done? Oh God, what had he done? Why was there blood? Through his sandy locks, on the threadbare carpet. Oh God.

"Seb!" I yelled, emphasised with a thump against the siding hard enough to make my hand ache. But he had stopped moving, crumpled on the floor, and suddenly I felt such a hard wrench in my gut that I was scrambling for something, anything to let me in. Where the hell was a rock when you need one?

I settled for a baseball bat lying far off entangled with long grass. I threw my weight behind the swing, kept swinging until there was a big enough hole that I could reach inside, unlock the door, and finally get through to Seb.

Who was unconscious, and thankfully not dead.

"Oh my God, Seb, I swear to God," I growled as I reached his side and knelt down, Rex's nose nudging my shoulder. "When you wake up, I'm going to skin you."

I smoothed a bloodied lock of hair away from his pale forehead, sighed heavily. I took a moment to observe my surroundings while stroking Rex's soft fur. There were empty bottles everywhere, one was cracked and scattered and splattered with blood. I looked back at Seb, his pallid skin, his dirty shirt, and found the source of the blood trail - a cut hand. I looked around again and shook my head.

"Oh, Seb, you idiot."