10 More Minutes With You
Sunsets Are For Muggings
Chapter 24
Jessica’s POV
The first night was the worst. After I woke up from the nightmare, I ran to the bathroom and found myself puking my guts up. I laid on the floor of the bathroom, within close reach of the toilet for an hour or so. I felt the sensation rise up my stomach. I leaned over the toilet and dry heaved. There was nothing left for me to give. That statement was true emotionally as well.
Mikey and Gerard stayed by my side the whole time. They helped me in my weak state walk back to the couch, and laid down with me. They skipped school with me and kept me company. We stayed at the Way’s house the whole time except for when they drove me home so I could shower and grab some of my clothes.
I haven’t cried since the night it happened. I felt completely numb, I felt about as much emotion as a rock would. Nothing makes sense anymore. I swear you could ask me 1+1= what and I would stare up, clueless, and yell “HOW THE HELL WOULD I KNOW?!?!?!”
On the 4th day, I asked them if they could drop me off at my house. I told them I just really wanted some alone time, in my own bed and such. They looked hesitant, but agreed, just as I knew they would.
I needed to do something before I completely broke, permanently. They walked me to my room, made sure I had everything I needed, then left, promising to pick me up in 3 hours. I laid down in bed and didn’t realize how tired I was. I woke up 2 hours later. Great, now I have to hurry. I thought as I jumped up and sprinted to the bathroom.
Feeling numb was worse then feeling depressed. Feeling numb is like being dead. I needed to feel alive, to feel something again. I turned on the water in the shower, and then took my jeans off. I grabbed my spare razor from the cabinet under the sink (my normal razor was at the Way’s house) and took the small plastic protector off. I decided to do it on the inside of my upper left thigh, so that no one would see it. I pressed hard and sporadically, smiling a twisted smile as I felt the warm blood run down my leg and coat my fingers. The gash hurt, and I reveled in the pain it inflicted on me. I flexed my leg, and watched in awe as the stream of blood picked up pace.
I knew the cut was deep, deeper then I probably should have cut it. It was dripping into the bathtub water, and I grew panicked as I watched the water become more and more red. My head began to throb, and I fell back into the blood-water. Fuck. I thought. This is how I’m gonna die. In a pool of my own blood. Literally. I felt the world swirling around me, like someone had pulled the plug on the bathtub and I was spiraling out of control down the drain, being washed away along with the water and blood.
Jessica’s POV
The first night was the worst. After I woke up from the nightmare, I ran to the bathroom and found myself puking my guts up. I laid on the floor of the bathroom, within close reach of the toilet for an hour or so. I felt the sensation rise up my stomach. I leaned over the toilet and dry heaved. There was nothing left for me to give. That statement was true emotionally as well.
Mikey and Gerard stayed by my side the whole time. They helped me in my weak state walk back to the couch, and laid down with me. They skipped school with me and kept me company. We stayed at the Way’s house the whole time except for when they drove me home so I could shower and grab some of my clothes.
I haven’t cried since the night it happened. I felt completely numb, I felt about as much emotion as a rock would. Nothing makes sense anymore. I swear you could ask me 1+1= what and I would stare up, clueless, and yell “HOW THE HELL WOULD I KNOW?!?!?!”
On the 4th day, I asked them if they could drop me off at my house. I told them I just really wanted some alone time, in my own bed and such. They looked hesitant, but agreed, just as I knew they would.
I needed to do something before I completely broke, permanently. They walked me to my room, made sure I had everything I needed, then left, promising to pick me up in 3 hours. I laid down in bed and didn’t realize how tired I was. I woke up 2 hours later. Great, now I have to hurry. I thought as I jumped up and sprinted to the bathroom.
Feeling numb was worse then feeling depressed. Feeling numb is like being dead. I needed to feel alive, to feel something again. I turned on the water in the shower, and then took my jeans off. I grabbed my spare razor from the cabinet under the sink (my normal razor was at the Way’s house) and took the small plastic protector off. I decided to do it on the inside of my upper left thigh, so that no one would see it. I pressed hard and sporadically, smiling a twisted smile as I felt the warm blood run down my leg and coat my fingers. The gash hurt, and I reveled in the pain it inflicted on me. I flexed my leg, and watched in awe as the stream of blood picked up pace.
I knew the cut was deep, deeper then I probably should have cut it. It was dripping into the bathtub water, and I grew panicked as I watched the water become more and more red. My head began to throb, and I fell back into the blood-water. Fuck. I thought. This is how I’m gonna die. In a pool of my own blood. Literally. I felt the world swirling around me, like someone had pulled the plug on the bathtub and I was spiraling out of control down the drain, being washed away along with the water and blood.
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Sorry it's short-ish. It had to be that way to make sense. (Btw, completely random title)Please, please comment. I'm not gonna be home tomorrow, (i'm going to party) but saturday, if my head isn't completely throbbing, I'm planning on updating again. It would really mean a shitload of skittles if I got comments on this. And to anyone who just started reading, thanks! Thanks to all my other readers as well!