Inflicting Pain (gxg)

● T W E N T Y - T H R E E | Words ●

† C H L O E †

The tongue has no bones, but is strong enough to either tame or break a heart. That's why it's important to choose your words wisely because they have energy and power with the ability to help, to heal, to hinder, to hurt, to harm, to humiliate, and to humble.

The power of words is immense. A well-chosen word has often sufficed to stop a flying army, to change defeat into victory and to save an empire. If you choose them right, they can unlock the hardest of hearts or silence the loudest of voices. But before you speak, let your words pass through three gates: Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind? For how you use them might cost more than you think.

I was lazily sprawled on the couch, scrolling through my phone, trying to decide what to order for lunch. Rosie, was curled up on my belly, fast asleep. How cute, I thought as I debated between Italian and Chinese food. Suddenly, the screen switched, and Elise's name popped up with an incoming call. I answered quickly.

"Hey, Elise. What's up?" I greeted her.

"Hey, Chloe. I need to ask you something important." Her voice was quieter than usual, like something was bothering on her.

"Sure! What's going on?" I replied, sensing her unease.

"What do you do when someone's having a panic attack?" she asked, her voice shaky with worry.

I immediately sat up, feeling a wave of concern. "Are you okay, Elise? Are you having a panic attack?" My own anxiety began to build as I waited for her response.

"Yeah, I think I am. But I'm more worried about Quinn." My heart skipped a beat at the mention of Quinn. "She grabbed a bottle of vodka and locked herself in the bathroom. It's been two hours, Chloe. I don't know what to do. I'm scared to knock because it didn't seem she want to talk earlier." Elise's words sent a surge of panic through me.

"Just stay calm, Elise. I'll be there as soon as I can," I said firmly, grabbing my keys and heading out the door. I jumped into my car, the only thing on my mind was getting to Quinn as fast as possible.

When I arrived at their dorm, Elise was sitting on the couch, nervously fidgeting with her fingers, her eyes glued to the bathroom door with an expression of deep worry. As I stepped closer, she glanced up at me, her fear palpable. I swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, and slowly knocked on the bathroom door, calling out for Quinn. Silence.

I reached for the handle, but it was locked. I turned to Elise, and without a word, she stood up and handed me the key, her hand trembling slightly. I banged on the door one more time, desperately calling Quinn's name. No response.

With a shaky breath, I slid the key into the lock and turned it, the door swinging open. My heart dropped the moment my eyes fell on Quinn.

She was slumped on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bathtub, her head hanging down. Her pants were pulled to her knees, and an empty bottle of vodka lay beside her, but that wasn't the worst part. Scattered across the floor were small, blood-stained pieces of paper, their sharp edges smeared with red. And her thighs—her exposed thighs—were covered in fresh cuts, red marks crisscrossing her skin, with traces of blood trailing down her legs.

I froze, unable to process the scene before me. Quinn had hurt herself again, and my heart shattered at the sight.

I quickly moved toward her, kneeling down as I cupped her face, my heart pounding in my chest. She looked completely out of it, her eyes barely open, and she didn't respond to my voice. My heart raced as I gently slapped her cheek a few times, calling her name softly, hoping to bring her back to me. Her eyes fluttered open, just enough to meet mine. She tried to push herself up, and instinctively, I reached for her hand to help. But to my shock, she yanked away from me with a fierce glare.