You're a Mind Fuck, Babe

Chapter 58: I Love Him So Much It Just Turns To Hate

"Brendon, just leave. Please," I beg, hoping he would just listen to me. Of course he doesn't and he forces the door wide open, pushing me aside.

"I'm going to call the police if you get any closer!" Ryan shouts, his voice cracking and making him seem even smaller than he already portrayed himself to be. Brendon shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh.

"I'm sooo scared," he says, mocking Ryan. Ryan scurries into the kitchen and grabs a knife.

"If you come any closer, I'll-I'll hurt you!" Ryan threatens but from the shake in his hands I don't think he'd have enough force to even wound Brendon. Brendon starts laughing maniacally. There are tears in Ryan's eyes as I try to put one foot in front of the other and grab Brendon.

"I need you, Ryan! Please!" Brendon shouts, his voice as close to growling as possible.

"You don't deserve him!" I shout, jumping on Brendon's back. I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to weaken him. He tries to buck me off but I'm not so easily shaken. He backs up into a wall, pushing the air from my lungs. My grip loosens a little but I'm still holding on. I try to squeeze my arms around his neck tighter but he keeps backing me into the same wall. I hear a crack but try to ignore it as the situation continues to unfold. His cold fingers make their way into my hair and he begins tugging roughly, pulling some hair out. I close my eyes and bite his ear as hard as possible and he screams out, letting my hair go. I hear a slicing sound that makes my heart skip a beat and my eyes shoot open. I don't feel anything so it can't be me that that noise came from, right? I let go of Brendon's neck and drop my feet to the floor. I do a quick recon of myself and realize that Ryan's hands are covered in blood and Brendon's slowly collapsing to his knees. Everything is in slow motion as Ryan sinks down to Brendon's aid, trying to stop the bleeding. Brendon is screaming in pain but all I can hear is white noise. I blink rapidly, my feet cemented into the floor. Ryan's looking at me for answers that I can't provide him with. Blood is pooling around Brendon and soon enough he'll have lost too much. I have to move. I have to act. I'm screaming but no words are coming out. I feel like I'm choking but I'm not. I slide my hand into my pocket and dial 911 and whisper the address before dropping the phone into the blood and falling to my knees. I close my eyes and try to fly away from this moment.

"Frank! Stop being an asshole and help me!" Ryan screams, slapping me hard. Unwillingly, I open my eyes. My body is weighted but I move nonetheless. I take off my shirt and put it to the wound, holding it there as well as possible. My arms feel like spaghetti as I keep applying pressure to the wound in Brendon's stomach. His face is pale and Ryan keeps slapping him to keep him awake.

"Stay with me, you idiot," he whispers, his body trembling as he leans over Brendon's body and kisses his cheek.

Sirens crawl into the area and my heart starts racing. They're coming. They'll know what to do. Saving people, isn't my specialty. I've never been on this side of the board. They can save him. He's lost so much blood. Ryan's going to get in trouble. It was self defense. I feel weak. My head hurts. My brain is pounding at my skull, wanting out. I haven't seen this much blood since that day... It's all coming back to me but why now? After all these years why do I have to remember how his blood soaked my hands... I snap out of the haze I'm in and start moving. Footsteps make their way up the stairs and into the room. It's a fireman, fully equipped. He sees Brendon first, then notices the blood. He makes a call on his radio before kneeling beside me.

"I can take over from here," he informs me, moving my hands. I'm transfixed on the wound and the way the blood is just slipping out like water from a kinked hose. The blood that coats my fingers starts to dry and feel like another layer of skin, only flakier. My knees are still in the blood, my pants drenched. It had been awhile since I had seen how much blood bodies could actually contain. The numbers just never seem to add up. A couple minutes later, EMTs arrive and take him out on a stretcher and carry me out to an ambulance. My legs don't want to work and I'm covered in so much blood they might think I'm hurt. My jaw won't open, it's clenched tightly shut, locked. My entire being feels too heavy to move.