Canal Bridge

Chapter One: Blood Bath

Foggy images of blinds penetrated by light, glimpses of a room encasing me. Pale walls bounce the morning light around the room and into my eyes. Momentary blindness forces my eyes shut once again. Tiredness is sewn with red thread in my eyes, a gift left by the sandman along with the mildew build up in the corners. Blinking heavily, I try to make sense of the flashing images projected to my brain. The neurons in my brain shooting signals like fireworks emploding. Where am I? I thought, groggily. Yes, that's right, in my bed. As I'm roused from my slumber with heavy eyes, my ears pick up a faint sound. Bzzz! Bzzz! The phone placed on my side table was trembling with fear as the number flashed on the screen. With all possible haste, I grabbed for the phone. Tabitha.

"C-can I come o-over?" Such a fragile voice stutters down the phone. Her voice was like velvet stroking the insides of my ears, like it was fulfilling a craving I didn't even know I had. The sound of tears is evident within the static coldness. Chills reverberate through my spine. "I-I'm sorry if I'm b-be-being a nuisance. I just can't be a-alone right now." Tabitha fell silent, awaiting my response. This was a common occurance, she had dealt with a lot of mental health issues in the past. Thankfully, my family is very understanding and due to this, allow Tabitha to stay whenever she needs. Sympathy drowns me, heavy on my lungs and heart. "Of course! You know you're always welcome. It's only five in the morning though so my parents have work in an hour and I go to work soon also." Recently, I had obtained a small job just for the summer holidays. It was a monotonous job involvin stacking shelves and counting. The only way I got through the day was with the small group of friends I had made at work. From time to time, we'd go out together, last week we'd gone swimming. Tabitha never came with us as she isn't the best with social gatherings. However, sometimes I fear she may feel left out or that I have abandoned her for them.

"That's fine. I just need somewhere to sleep. I'll be over soon." Her voice had gotten quieter and it seemed as though she was no longer crying. On the other side of the phone, there was sounds of shuffling like she was moving around. With that, the phone beeps indicating the end of the call. It should take twenty minutes for her to arrive here, we don't live too far from one another but she still lives on a much richer street than I. Usually, she would stay on the phone during her walk, especially if it's late on the night but this time she didn't. This filled me with paranoia, what if she had overdosed again? What was she keeping from me? After some time had passed, she finally arrived at my house.

"Hello Olivia, Paul." Tabitha nods towards my parents as they embark on yet another tireless working day. My mother is a full time care worker at the nursing home down the road and my father works at some high end plumbing company. My father hardly mentions his work as he likes to keep his work and home life seperate, but my mom can be quite a gossip so it's not the same for her. We don't get much as a family, but I don't mind, we have everything we need so it's okay.

"Hiya sweetie, hope you're doing okay!" Olivia smiles cheerily. Her bag swings behind her with such force as she pushes her way out of the front door that it's surprising she didn't fall backwards. Determination was riddled in every step she took. My father was the complete opposite of this. It looked as though he was sleepwalking, slugging himself along as if he were climbing a mountain. Gusts of wind pushed against him like he weighed nothing, which certaintly was not the case as he was a rather round little man. He hummed in agreement to his wife before disappearing outside. The door slammed shut. Admittedly, it was laughable how different my parents are. My mother and father was the definition of opposites attract, even magnets couldn't contest with them. The only thing they have in common is how much compassion they have, which luckily is a trait they bestowed upon me. Tabitha had been smiling the whole time up until the door shut, then it began to falter as more tears escaped from a prison cell where the bars were made of eyelashes. Without a second to comprehend the rapidity of the events unfolding, I hugged her. As our hearts touched through skin and cloth, I expressed that I will always be there for her. She heard me, I know she did.