Saved - Ronnie Radke

Razors

TW: Self Harm

Juliet's POV

"Mommy?" I asked, peeking through the bathroom door.

"J-Juliet... go away," she choked on her air.

"Mommy?"

"Juliet... d-don't come over here."

"Why?" I walked over to her laying in the bathtub. "Mommy, why is the water red?"

"Juliet... g-get out of here."

"Mommy?"

"I lov-"

"Mommy? Mommy?" I poked her, "Mommy!"

I flung up from the bed, hyperventalating and sweating. I ran to the bathroom, checking the bathtub. I sighed when I saw she wasn't there. I made my way out of the bathroom, walking back to Ronnie and I's shared bed. He slept peacefully, his tattooed arms now holding my pillow.

I walked back into the bathroom and closed the door. I started at myself in the mirror. My eyes had dark circles under them, I was losing weight, my hair was brittle. No, Juliet, don't fall back into that.

I sat down on the toilet, running my hands through my hair and over my face. My leg began to bounce. No, no, no, not now. I looked down at my arms, the scars fading, though the circular scar was very much visible.

I sat in my own thoughts, my face in my hands and my legs bouncing. I found myself walking to my bag, pulling out my leg shaver. I stared at it, then at Ronnie, and back at the razor. I took it to the bathroom, frantically pulling the thing apart to separate the razor from the plastic. When it was free, I stared at it. I ran my finger over it gently. Nothing. No pain.

I took the razor, running it over my wrists and arms. Absolutely no pain. I watched as the blood poured out onto my hand and dripped on the floor. What am I doing? Stop Juliet. I can't. I let out a whimper as I watched the razor go deeper than normal. "Fuck," I whispered. The poured from the deepness of the cut. I felt my vision beginning to go blurry. My body became weak, myself falling onto the floor with a thud.

I heard commotion from outside of the bathroom. Fuck. "Juliet?" I heard Ronnie's scratchy voice ask.

"W-what?" My voice was faint.

"What's going on in there?" He asked.

"N-nothing," I tried to yell.

"What was that loud bang?" He asked.

"I dropped something," my voice cracked.

Suddenly the door opened. Ronnie's eyes went wide as he bent down to me, "what the hell are you doing?!"

"What does it look like?" I spat.

"Juliet, you promised me," he said, taking off his shirt and wrapping it around my arm tightly.

"Does it look like I give a fuck!" I yelled. "Now isn't the fucking time to lecture me!"

"This isn't you," he said, grabbing my hand. I snatched it back.

"It sure seems like it, I feel like my normal self."

"You aren't like this," he said, still squatting in front of me.

"Just because I pretend everything's okay, doesn't mean it is Ronnie! This is what I am!"

"Why the fuck would you do this?!"

"Because it's how my mother went and I'm just striving to be like her," I laughed sarcastically.

"Juliet..."

"Just leave me alone, let me die here."

My eyes closed as he began talking.

Ronnie's POV

"Juliet! Wake up!" I yelled, lightly tapping her face.

"Fuck off Ronnie, leave me alone," she mumbled.

I grabbed her, lifting her into my arms and walking out of the bathroom. I laid her down on the bed, going to my bag to grab some alcohol to dump on the cut. When I dumped it on the cut, she practically screamed as loud as she could. "I'm sorry, I have to do this," I said, putting the cap on the bottle. I then tied my shirt tightly around her arm.

I watched as she quickly drifted off into sleep. I made sure to lay next to her to make sure she's breathing and her heart is beating. I knew she was weak and tired, but the thought of her dying in her sleep scared me. I don't think I sept at all for the rest of that night, the constant beating of her heart and raising of her chest was enough to occupy my mind.

How could she do this to herself? Is that really how her mom went? What's really going on in her head? How did it get this bad?

————

When I woke from my 20 minute nap that night, I sighed, seeing Juliet still passed out. I quickly checked to see if she was breathing, she was. I was just scared she was going to bleed out.

I got up, stepping onto the balcony and lit a cigarette, pulling the nicotine into my lungs. It felt good, I don't remember the last time I had a cigarette.

I kept finding myself turning around to check and see if she was awake. God, this girl, this amazing girl, makes me crazy. She's so perfect, yet so broken, but so am I. She's crazy, but I love it. She doesn't give a shit, and I admire that.

I heard shuffling, making me turn around quickly. She sat up in the bed, her hands over her face. I walked inside, "headache?" I asked.

"Fuck you Ronnie!" she yelled.

"What?" I asked.

"Fuck you!" She screamed, standing up and shoving me backward, knocking me into the wall.

"What did I do?!" I yelled back.

"I wanted to die! Why couldn't you just let me die?!" She pushed me between each of her words.

""Because maybe I fucking care about you!" I screamed.

"I never told you to!" She shoved me again.

"Yeah, we'll maybe I'm just a fucking idiot right? Caring for someone is just a fucking stupid idea!" I stepped closer to her, "Listen to me," I growled, "you aren't the only person in the world who's wanted to fucking die. I watched my mother leave, my brother die, my dad abuse me. Trust me, you didn't have it near as bad as I did," I spat, "the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, grow up." With that, I grabbed my bag and left, not before hearing her voice crack as she called my name.