**ON HOLD** The Scars On Her Skin (A Vic Fuentes Love Story)

Chapter 3

JUST A WARNING THIS CHAPTER'S REALLY SHORT BUT IT'S REALLY DEEP AND SAD YES I CRIED WRITING IT DONT JUDGE ME.. BUT IF YOU DONT LIKE SAD SHIT AND BLOOD AND STUFF JUST SKIP OVER THAT PART OK ENJOY READING.

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There on the bathroom floor, laying completely still, was my Dad. An empty yellow bottle of pills was laying on the floor next to him. I immediately started sobbing and dropped to the floor. 

"Dad!" I shouted, shaking him. "Dad! Please! Wake up Dad!" I kept shaking him tears streaming down my face. "Please Dad.." I whispered hopelessly. My sobs came out in shouts at this point. I ran to my phone I set down on the coffee table and called 911. 

I told them what happened, and hung up. Still sobbing, I rested my head on his chest. No heartbeat. I started compressing multiple times down on his chest. At this point I was hopeless. There was nothing I could do. "I'm so sorry..." I whispered, hugging the practically lifeless corpse. "Dad.. please.." I kept saying.  

I heard loud sirens from outside, and my front door opening. I stood up and walked out to the couch, staying out of their way. I heard them talking to each other in shouts.  

They were in there for about 20 minutes, and then pulled him out on a stretcher. 

"We can't seem to get a pulse on him, we're gonna take him to Taylor Memorial ER." one of the men shouted on their way out. The door was slammed closed and I was left alone in my apartment. I sat on the couch and cried. Hard. I walked into the bathroom and picked up my phone on the floor. I went to Vic's contact and called him. 

"Vic?" I asked in a shaky voice, still crying when he answered. "I need you. Please hurry." I told him.  

"I'll be right there, hang tight, it's gonna be okay." he assured me, before hanging up. I slammed my phone down on the counter and picked up the empty bottle. I held it in my shaking hands, before throwing it with anger at the wall. I was still crying. This was all my fault. 

I went to the bathtub and picked up the razor resting on the soap dish. I held it firmly in my hands, staring. I gripped it tighter and sat on the edge of the tub, shaking. 

"Vic I need you.." I whispered. I started taking the blades apart, I couldn't resist or stop myself, even if I tried. "Vic I need you!" I shouted at nothing but emptiness. I started crying harder. My bangs were soaked from tears. I got one blade out and threw the rest of the razor in the tub. I held the blade between my forefinger and my middle finger. I held it up to my wrist, rethinking if what I was doing was right. I knew it wasn't, but I couldn't resist. I pressed the blade to my skin. I glided it across, long and hard. The sight and feel of blood felt amazing. But I knew afterwards I would feel like shit. I did it multiple times, crying harder after each time. I did it about 9 times until.. 

"Sam?" I heard someone call through the door.  

"Vic.." I cried out. I dropped the blade and ran out to the living room. I jumped into his arms and wrapped my arms around him. "Vic I'm so sorry." I sobbed into him.  

"Sam stop it's okay.. what happened?" he asked, running his hands up and down my back. 

"This is all my fault.." I sobbed. He guided me to the couch and sat me down.  

"No it's not." he stroked my hair lightly. 

"Vic you don't even fucking know what happened!" I shouted, standing up.  

"Tell me, Sam. Calm down, and tell me." he said calmly. He reached out and grabbed my hand to sit me down, and then he saw. He looked up into my eyes and pulled me down into his lap. "Sam.." he whispered. His fingers were covered in blood. I looked into his eyes and he looked in mine.