13 Novella 6

Sorry

TW: self harm/ suicide

You wake slowly, head pounding and heart thumping like you've just run a race. You are in your own bed wearing comfy clothes, but you are alone. You feel you haven't been out for long, and search fruitlessly for any nearby thoughts. Nothing.

Sitting up you remember what happened and realise what this means. Jenny was leaving. The pain hits you like a truck and suddenly you are gasping.

You dry retch and run to the bathroom but nothing comes up. Leaning against the bathtub you draw your knees up to your chest and bury your face in them, feeling sick and shivery. Your eyes are glazed over so it takes you a minute to see the tile, not quite flush with the others.

Allowing yourself to smile slightly, you pull it off with your fingertips and hear it clatter to the floor. Behind is one final scalpel. You pluck it securely from its hiding place and do some serious thinking.

Did you want to die? If you didn't have Missy or the others the answer would probably be yes, but you couldn't do that to them. Plus, you would need to apologise first, or at least say goodbye. You twirl the blade between your fingers as you think, feeling your heart beat in your throat. So maybe you just needed to punish yourself for making your other lover think you didn't need her? That she didn't make you complete, that she didn't fill the gaping hole in your chest with warmth and tingles?

With that, you roll up the sleeve of the fluffy jumper you are in and hover the blade, relaxing into the first cut. Not nearly as deep as you'd like, you slice again.

You see the skin pull apart and breathe as the gash
weeps. It is a nice feeling. Justice perhaps. You slice again, getting into a rhythm. Well practiced, you know what you like, and you like what you know.

The blood is fast leaving your body and you lean contentedly back against the bathtub. You didn't want to die, you try to convince yourself, but you're not very persuasive. Feeling your sight go dizzy, you gain inspiration and dip your finger in the pool of blood and write with shaky hands on the sink cabinet.

Tell them I'm sorry

You can feel consciousness leaving you as you slump over your knees, and that's when you feel the worst pain of all. The scalpel has dropped down your hand and stabbed into your lower wrist. Panicking now, you can feel the pulsing blood leaving in whooshes, and your dizziness becoming unbearable. Missy.. Jenny... Missy... Jenny... Doctor... Yaz.... Missy... Jenny...

                            *              *              *

"You heard it too?"

"Yes where is she?"

"I left her in her bed, shit where did she go?"

"Doctor what's going on? Doctor?

"Quiet a second love, she's trying to talk to us..."

"Love? (Y/n)? I thinks she's in here, oh god no, please no..."

"What is it?! Tell me what you heard!"

"Just our names, yours too Jen, now help me open this door"

There is a lot of thumping on the door and the dull buzz of the sonic before all three burst through. Someone shrieks and suddenly warm hands are lifting your head and touching your neck. They place your head back down where it lolls to the side, and pressure is applied to your wrist while your eyes flutter uselessly.

"What the fuck is that?!" Exclaims Missy and there is a lot of shuffling.

"Tell them I'm Sorry? What does that mean? Mum help her!"

"Be quiet Jenny, she's severed an artery, god when will this stop"

"When you listen to her you moron! Jen she told you she wanted you to stay and you told her you were leaving!"

"You don't think I blame myself Missy? You don't think I agree with everything she said when she kissed you? That I'm broken, and never going to be enough?!"

"Shut up both of you! (Y/n) can you hear me? Right I'm taking her to the medbay, you two clean up here" and with that, warm hands slip under your body and lift you close to their chest. You'd love to grip on tightly and securely, but you are on the edge of consciousness and don't want to push it with added exertion.

Your good arm falls limp as she carries you while the arm you worked on is pressed between you both.

You whimper and she sighs, jogging faster. She places you on a bed and stabs various things into your arm. The cool liquid courses through you as she puts a very tight bandage on your arm. Eventually she sits back and pulls up a chair beside you.

"You can't keep doing this" she whispers and you are glad you can't respond, for you wouldn't know what to say. "You were doing so well" she adds but you cannot move you are so weak and blurry. "I don't know what to do with you" she stammers, and you feel her hand wrap around your good wrist before she leans over and kisses you lightly on your forehead. Her blonde hair tickles your face slightly, but she is so warm you kind of like it. "I promised I would keep you safe, and you promised me this could work. I guess we both failed." She says quietly as you slip slowly off to sleep. "I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry, I just don't know what to do."