A Million Hooks

Take One Last Breath

Chapter 1:

{as i choke, tried to wash you down with something strong}

    The knock on my front door signaled Steve was here. Damn that was quick.

     Earlier he had shot me an abrupt text: "I'm coming over in ten minutes. I need to talk to you."

    I'd gotten those types of texts only a few times before, and I knew enough about them to know they weren't any good. He'd seen the scars on my thighs and he wanted to quit being with me, at least that's what had always been the reason for my breakups before. Not like anyone needed a different reason to; I just had too much baggage for anyone to handle.

     I yelled a "come in" from the living room couch and heard the slow creak of the door as it opened, signaling my impending doom.

   Steve's thudding footsteps followed the path of my voice into the living room, but he stopped before he was able to come into my view. A few moments passed by before he cleared his throat and broke the silence.

     "Beth, listen, I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm-" He said as I interrupted him.

     "Save it Steve. I know where you're going with this. You came here to leave me, and I realise that. If that's all you have to say, just go. I don't need, or want, to hear anymore." I spoke emotionlessly as he shuffled his feet in place, clearing his throat again.

    "Beth, I'm sorry. Like you're such a special and sweet girl to me, and these past three months have been amazing but it's just I ca-"

    "I know I'm too much to handle. Just leave. Please. I don't want to hear it." I said, cutting him off again as my voice cracked. "Just get out Steve." I managed to choke out as he slowly walked back out of my front door.

    Once the door clicked shut and I heard Steve turn on his car, I ran up stairs and threw myself on my bed. I curled into my pillows and became wracked with silent sobs, dainty tears falling down my face. I reached into my bed-side table drawer and picked up my razor. I hated dealing with the emotional pain; There was a lack of control that didn't have to deal with with physical pain. I slid it a few times over the healing scars on my ribs and pulled my shirt back down, my pain released.

    I turned over and grabbed my car keys from the pillow opposite me and ran down my front steps. I could feel the blood softly trickling down my stomach as I turned the key and started the ignition. I didn't know where I was headed, but I knew I just had to get out of the house.

    I wound up at the beach, staring at the water again as I did only a few weeks ago while my friends were partying. I dropped my keys into the sand behind me and slowly started to walk into the icy water, it's depths staring back at me and begging me to fall apart into it. I wanted to die, and I guess this was the best way I could do it; less painful I guess.

   I walked into the water until it was at my ribs, the salt water searing my forming scars. I heard a splash come in behind me as a wave reached over my head and took me in.      

   "Get back over here!" Someone growled when my head resurfaced, a hand wrapping around my wrist and dragging me back to shore.

    I was pulled up onto the sand and had something warm press against my frozen lips, which then vanished, replaced with a pair of hands pounding at my chest. I began coughing up the water that was in my lungs and rolled over onto my side.

    "You better not try anything like again, you hear me?" Someone said from above me. I looked up and stared into the warm brown eyes of a face I knew too well, a face from my favourite band.

      It was Mike Fuentes.

      Mike Fuentes saved me.