What a Catch

Chapter 7: The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Chapter 7: The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Yeah, cause no one will ever feel like this again

***A/N: So, this chapter is a little bit crazy. And quite a bit shorter than the others but not to worry, they'll get back to their normal length in the next chapter. Tell me what you think and how you feel at the end. I love reading your comments!***

It had been a few weeks since Lexie and Brooklyn had been back in Boston and Brooklyn's mind was beginning to spiral out of control, realizing just how alone she was. She didn't really talk to anyone from school during the summer and when she did, they seemed to be pretty meaningless conversations that she would rather not be involved in. Lexie was at work all the time so she spent a lot of time alone in the house. It wasn't like that in Seattle. To her, it seemed like there was always something to do there, or at least there was someone to talk to. A distraction. Now there was nothing. No distractions. Just her alone with her thoughts.

Brooklyn looked over her bedside clock and sighed as she decided to finally pull herself out of bed at noon. Even that was becoming harder and harder for her everyday. There didn't seem to be any reason to. Brooklyn's mind was telling her that nothing mattered. That she was alone, and no one really cared about her. She tried to tell herself that wasn't true, that she had a mother that loved her more than the world but her mind dismissed that as soon as she tried to combat it.

Looking down at her arms, she sighed. The red lines she had placed before she left for Seattle had began to heal and had started to fade, but they were obviously visible. She couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror anymore. The scars disgusted her as they lined her body. Her arms, legs and stomach were covered in lines varying in color from red to white and silvery. Even with that disgust, she wanted more. It was the only way she could feel something. Without her own self destruction she felt empty, hollow, and lifeless. She kept telling herself, if you bleed you're alive. Even when you don't want to be or don't feel like it. Looking in the drawer in her bathroom she tried to fight the urges. Do it. They pleaded. End it all. She willed herself not to give in. It took all her strength, but she didn't give in. Not this time. Not yet.

Walking out of her bathroom and into the hallway she heard nothing but the sound of her own breathing and footsteps on the hardwood floor. It would feel like a horror movie if it wasn't her house in the daylight. Walking around aimlessly, she paced the house before returning quietly to her room and laid on her bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she made shapes out of the textures, and thought about how easy it would be just to take all of this away. Maybe she would feel something if she was gone, or maybe she wouldn't care because she would be alive to know anyway. Nothing really mattered. She wasn't important.

The feeling of loneliness began to consume her every thought and action. It began to eat away at her. It used her for her own mutilation leaving not only internal, mental scars, but physical ones. Ones that she made. The feelings were using her for her own mutilation. It kept eating away at her. At first, it was little nibbles, tiny scratches were left behind. Then it became stronger. Bigger. Needing more to keep itself alive. The bites became bigger, and deeper with it, leaving more apparent marks on her skin. Brooklyn had won many battles, but this just might be the final one.

As she sat alone in the house, the days seemed to drag on for longer and longer. Each one making it harder to deal with. Those voice in the back of her mind spoke more clearly now. It was as if it was a child growing and learning to communicate. The voice got clearer and louder. Brooklyn had been laying there for hours trapped with her thoughts when she finally decided to get up and grab her blade.

She couldn't fight it anymore. Brooklyn picked up the blade and ran it across her arm. One slash, two, three. The blood began to pour and Brooklyn felt relief before realizing just how much blood she was seeing. It poured quickly from the wounds. She took a nearby towel and pressed it over the cuts. It usually stopped by now. When she noted that blood was still pouring from the open wounds she began to worry. Quickly she picked up her phone and called her mom. She realized her mistake. She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready.

The phone rang, BRRRRING BRRRRING BRRRRING, before finally, it clicked over to the sound of Lexie's voice. "Hey Brook, I'm leaving work. What do you need?"

"Momma?" Brooklyn said a weak, shaky, voice, obviously laced with tears, sounding like a small child. "I-I need help. Th-there's blood-a lot of blood- e-everywhere."

"Brooklyn, sweetie, what happened?" The concern was apparent in Lexie's voice. It wasn't often that Brooklyn called Lexie 'momma' so when she did Lexie knew that something was wrong. Brooklyn didn't seem to be making sense. What had happened to her daughter? What was happening?

"I-I-I- just hurry. Please." She willed her mother.

"Okay. Okay. Stay calm. I'll be home in a few minutes." Lexie kept her voice steady but fear rose in her throat. She didn't know what had happened, maybe she just cut herself while making lunch, even so, Lexie didn't know. Lexie rushed to the car, and raced home.

Meanwhile, Brooklyn laid there, still losing blood. Tears rolled down her cheeks quickly as she regretted what she did. She regretted not ever telling Lexie about what was happening. She regretted pretending that she was fine. Now, she could die and never get to tell anyone goodbye. She could die without ever having lived.

When Lexie arrived at the house, she went inside to find that Brooklyn wasn't in the kitchen. "Brooklyn?" She questioned but didn't hear a response. "Brooklyn!" Lexie went upstairs and into her daughter's room to find her lying there covered in blood. Her own blood. "Oh God, Brooklyn? What happened?"

"I-I'm so sorry, Mommy." Brooklyn managed to get out. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. You're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine." Lexie soothed as she pulled out her phone and dialed 9-1-1 quickly and placed it on speaker taking a t-shirt laying on the floor that was now covered in blood as well and tied it around the top of her leg as a tourniquet and took the blood stained towel and applied pressure to her daughter's leg. "I need an ambulance to 1901 Edgewood. There is a 15 year old female bleeding out." Lexie stated after the emergency services picked up.

The ambulance arrived within 10 minutes. At that point, Brooklyn was starting become dizzy. Everything slowly began turning black around the edges. She could tell she was losing too much blood. Everything around her was red including the scrubs her mother was wearing. Looking up, she saw the pained expression on her mother's face and the tears coming from her eyes. She tried to talk, and tell her mother that she was sorry but everytime she tried no noise would come out. She was too weak. The paramedics came in, put her on stretcher and wheeled her out quickly with Lexie following close behind, holding the young girl's hand.

Every minute they weren't at the hospital was nerve-wracking for everyone in the ambulance. No one knew how much time the girl had left. The bleeding had slowed but was still spilling out of the cuts. Lexie couldn't get the image of her daughter's room out her mind. Blood covered everything that surrounded her. From the looks of it, she had lost about a liter and a half of blood. She'd need a lot of stitches and an immediate blood transfusion. At this point, it was touch and go. Lexie could feel her daughters thready pulse under her fingers. Being a doctor, Lexie knew what blood loss looked like and what it did to a human body. Looking down at her daughter, she was ghostly white, and sweating. Lexie knew she was in trouble, she couldn't imagine losing her daughter. Not now, not this way.