s h e

chapter sixteen

It's been 45 minutes since Talia left the apartment and Winnie's locked in her en suite.

You sit with your back against the door, so that you can hear all of Winnie's fervent muttering to herself inside the bathroom.

You can't decipher a lot, just the words 'stupid' and 'hurting' and the phrase 'can't believe you'd do this to her'. That doesn't leave you with much, but what it does give you is a chilling sense of fear.

"Winnie." You call. Her quiet rambling ceases for half a second. "Winnie, honey, can you open the door? You're scaring me."

Her voice is muffled by the walls, but you can make out a small, "I don't wanna hurt you again."

"Winnie, you haven't hurt me, okay? I hurt you, and I need to make it better." You know you're talking to her like she's a four year-old with a boo-boo, but the girl is not in the right state of mind for a long conversation with big words.

A beat passes before she responds.

"You're gonna be mad at me when you come inside."

"Winnie?" Your vision starts to blur. "Winnie, open the door."

"Melanie."

"Winnie, open the door right now."

The door opens, and you scream.

"Winnie!"

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The first thing you notice is Winnie because Winnie is the most important thing to you right now.

She looks so small, which is almost funny because in no way is Winnie small, but right now it's only serving to make you more anxious.

The second thing you notice is the blood.

It's everywhere, and you think you're hyperventilating because there's so much blood.

The third thing you notice is Winnie's mirror, which has been reduced to shards on the floor.

She looks so nervous and it fucking hurts.

"Melly," she bites her lip, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break the mirror, I just felt really really upset and I punched it and I didn't think it would shatter like that and I'm so sorry and-"

"Winnie." Gray, gray, gray eyes and bloody hands.

"I'm so, so sorry..."

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The first aid kit is in your shaking hands.

Winnie gasps and whimpers when you pull out glass splinters or when you pour peroxide on a cut, but other than that both of you are dead silent.

Most of them are just scratches, and they're not deep. She's only badly injured on her thigh. It looks like it'll need stitches.

The thought of Winnie in the hospital makes you grimace, because she's never liked hospitals.

"Winnie," you start, but you don't know what to say so you sigh. She squeezes her eyes shut.