God's way

Part 11

When I got to his house, I didn't even knock. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my heart racing. The house was dark and cold, the kind of chill that made your skin prickle. It felt abandoned, lifeless, as if no one had been there for days. Sometimes I wondered where his family was. He rarely spoke about them, and when he did, it was always vague, like they were just shadows in the background of his life.

"Sayjan!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the empty halls. There was no answer. Panic gripped me as I moved through the house, checking each room. The living room was empty, the kitchen dark and quiet. I sprinted upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. My breaths were coming out in short, sharp gasps, my chest tight with fear.

"Sayjan!" I screamed again, my voice breaking.

The silence was unbearable. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. My hands were shaking as l opened one door after another. His bedroom, the guest room, the small closet at the end of the hall. Empty. All empty. My head was spinning, my vision blurring with tears. I could feel hysteria bubbling up inside me, threatening to swallow me whole.

And then I heard it. The faint sound of running water.

I whipped around, my eyes landing on the bathroom door at the end of the hall. It was closed. I rushed over, banging on it with both fists.

"Sayjan!" I shouted, my voice hoarse. "Open the door! Please, open the door!"

No answer. Just the steady sound of water hitting the tub. My heart dropped into my stomach. I twisted the doorknob, but it was locked.

"Sayjan!" I screamed, banging harder.

The doorknob rattled in my grip, but it wouldn't budge. "Please, say something! Open the door!" My voice cracked, a sob tearing from my throat. I slammed my shoulder against the door, desperately trying to force it open.

Then I saw it—a thin trickle of water seeping out from under the door, pooling around my feet. My breath hitched, and a cold, sick feeling washed over me.

"No, no, no..." I muttered.

I slamming into the door with all my strength. It felt like it was stuck, like it was sealed shut by something more than just the lock. I gritted my teeth, fueled by pure fear, and threw myself against it again and again until finally, the door gave way.

I stumbled into the bathroom, and the sight before me made my blood run cold. Sayjan was lying in the bathtub, fully clothed, his eyes closed. The water was overflowing, splashing onto the tiles, tinged with red. Blood was pouring from his wrists, swirling in the water like ribbons of crimson.

"No, no, no.." I panicked, my voice breaking. I rushed to him, turning off the shower, the water burning hot as I twisted the knob. My hands were trembling so badly I could barely grip it.

I reached into the tub, grabbing him under his arms and pulling him out. He was heavy, dead weight in my hands. His skin was cold, pale as a ghost.

"Please wake up," I sobbed, dragging him onto the floor. His head lolled back, his eyes still closed, blood smearing across the tiles.

"No. Please, don't do this. Please!" I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and dialed 999, my fingers slipping on the screen.

"999, What's your emergency?"

"My friend," I gasped, barely able to speak through my sobs. "He's—he's hurt himself. He's bleeding, please hurry!" I spat out the address, my voice frantic. "I don't know if he's breathing, please send someone, please!"

The operator was saying something, trying to calm me, but I couldn't focus. I threw the phone aside and cradled Sayjan's head in my lap, pressing my hands against his wrists to try and stop the bleeding.