cuts

come on

"Taylor!" I pleaded. "Get down please!" He was on the roof just outside the window. I ran and rummaged through my bathroom. I found it.

I ran right back out to the window and screamed, I looked around, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I started noticing neighbors gathering around the scene. Taylor turned around and like me, his cheeks were stained with tears and he looked like he'd been in the middle of a tornado.

As I lifted up my sleeve, the neighbors gasped at the sight of my scab-covered arms. I held the blade in my hand and up to my wrist. It was wet and warm because of my sweaty palms. I brought it up in the air.

"Come on, Taylor, 19 days. 19!" He looked at me with panic as I held it back to my wrist. "Please don't make me because if I do, I won't stop, and you know that. 19 days. Please get down. I love you and I care about you and you know that more than anything." He stepped back and his leg slipped off the roof. Through my tears I softly to myself sobbed,"Taylor, no." I stumbled out of the window, noticing out of the corner of my eye, a neighbor calling the ambulance. From this roof, it wasn't a huge fall, but enough for someone to get really hurt.

The blade dropped and I glanced off the side of the roof, looking for blood. Instead I saw a panting Taylor being supported by only some neighbors. I felt tingley inside as my strength began to weaken and my vision became out numbered by black spots. The last thing I heard was an ambulance, Taylor yelling my name, and the concrete as I hit the ground.