Threat

“Alright, Mr. Carter, you’re good to leave.”

Michael and I smiled like idiots towards the doctor – eleven days was enough to spend cooped up in a hospital room.

“I have to remind you that even though your body has had time to recover, I would highly recommend that you continue to take it easy for a couple of weeks. No strenuous activities such as lifting heavy objects, competitive exercises, things along that line. Understood?”

“Don’t worry about him. He won’t do any of those things because he has no choice but to let me take care of him.”
Michael explained this to the doctor – while sending a wink towards my way I might add.

“I can still walk and move my arms, Michael.”
“That can be debatable…Besides, maybe I want to take care of you for a change.”

He pouted slightly as I stifled a laugh.
A small laugh from the doctor startled us both.

“You two are very cute together. I’ll have a wheelchair up here in a minute so you can go.”

And she was out the door.

“You hear that, Tyler? She said we were ‘cute together’.”
Another wink with a large smile – my cheeks grew hot in an instant.

“I-It’s not like we’re really—”
I quickly stopped myself, instantly regretting what I was about to say.

His smile fell as he nervously scratched the back of his head.

“R-Right…”
“I didn’t mean it like that. If we’re doing this…I want to do this right. I have to officially end it with Marcia, face-to-face.”

His eyes widened.

“You can’t be serious…! Tyler, you already told her that you stopped loving her and she tried to kill you! You’ve made your point…! You…You don’t need to—”

“Yes I do, Michael. You and I both know that I need to.”

I reached for his hand, holding it in mine.

“She’s unstable, I know. That is exactly why I have to make sure she understands.”

I have to make sure that she’ll be okay.

“…I understand, but I’m not leaving your side this time. No matter how much you beg me to leave or try to convince me that you’ll be fine.”

I gave him a small smile.

“Okay.”

| x | x | x |

“No.”
“Michael—”

“No. You are not doing this today! You just got home from the fucking hospital! You’re still weak, you’re still injured, and you can barely stand without something to help you! You can’t—”

“Michael, please…!”
“No.”

I took in a deep breath before looking him straight in the eyes.

“I need to end it, Michael. The more time I waste, the more things that could go wrong will happen. I will walk there myself, regardless if you help me or not, and I will end it.”

He didn’t respond.

I slowly stood up from the couch, struggling to make my way towards the door.

My legs started to give in and soon I fell.
Luckily, Michael was there to catch me.

“See? This is exactly what I mean…!”
He pulled me a little closer to him, resting his head on top of mine.

“I…I love you so much, Tyler. I don’t want to see you get hurt again…”
“This is why I have to end it. So we can start our life together, right?”

I have to make sure that everything will be okay.

He moved his head away, staring at me with tear-filled eyes.
I gave him a reassuring smile.

“Right, Micah?”
“…You’re horrible for using that name right now…”

He helped me back onto my feet.

“…We go in. You tell her what you need to tell her. We get the fuck out straight afterwards, and you do not leave my side for a second, understand?”

“Understood.”

| x | x | x |

“Marcia?”

The air was cold and everything was silent.

Broken pieces of glass and wood were on the floor.
Furniture and pictures were out of place.
Marks – black to red – were placed on the wall.

She had a fit again.
She couldn’t calm down.

“What the fuck happened here…?”

I ignored Michael’s question, calling out Marcia’s name again.

“Maybe she’s not home?”
“No…There was a light on…”

Something is wrong.

I quickly made my way up the stairs the best I could – Michael following closely behind –, heading towards the light coming from the bathroom.

I froze, hearing the sound of water dripping.

“M-Marcia…?”

Something is very wrong.

I opened the door slightly, spotting clothing on the floor.
I inched in slightly, seeing an arm hanging over the edge of the bathtub.

“Marcia…? It’s me…We need to t—”

I stepped inside, freezing instantly at the sight.

Red on the walls.
Red on the floor.

Deep, red lines on wrists, thighs, and her stomach.
My razorblade, resting in her hand.

An unresponsive body, floating in a bathtub full of water, bleeding out for God knows how long.

“M-Mar…cia…?”

She…
She—

“Tyler?”

I stumbled back, shaking my head in disbelief.

“She…She didn’t…She couldn’t…!”

The more I stared at the sight in front of me, the more it became harder to breathe.

“Tyler…? Come on, Tyler. Look at me.”

Michael wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

“She…S-She…I-It’s…It’s my fault…”
“No, it isn’t! Tyler, listen—!”

“S-She’s dead, Michael! She’s d-dead and I…!”

My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to breathe, eventually hyperventilating.

Michael covered my eyes with his hand, still holding me close to him.

“It’s not your fault, Tyler. Okay? It’s not…!”

I shook my head as tears poured from my eyes; Michael did his best to comfort me while keeping me blind.

But the image was still there.

A pale corpse with long black hair and closed eyes, floating in a bathtub with blood-stained water.
Mutilated wrists and thighs, still bleeding out.

A message, written in red above her on the wall.

“Welcome Home.”