She Wanted to be Saved

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

We walked in through the front door of the place I called home. The place that held my worst nightmares and scariest thoughts. His hand was wrapped securely around my waist and the pristine white bandages peeked out from the edges of my long sleeved grey top. It felt good to have that needle out of my arm and to be able to leave that dreadful room. Jackson had only left my side once to go get more coffee but other then that my mum had bought him in food when she had visited twice since I had woken up. My mum was over caring, its like I was visible to her again like she realised she had a daughter. She only saw me twice both for the space of half an hour, I didn't bother to make the effort to talk to her. By the end of the second visit she had a fit, screaming at me and storming out of my private hospital room like a two year old when their parents didn't by them their favourite candy bar. I remember Jackson looking down at me with sad eyes, "she's just trying to help Malory."

I had snapped back, "just because I tried to kill myself doesn't mean she can suddenly start caring and want something to do with my life."

He remembered how taken back he had looked his blue eyes searching mine he shook his head a little and resumed where he was sitting and laced his finger in mine after kissing the palm of my hand.

I was snapped back to the present when he released his arm from around my waist, "your mums working late again tonight so your staying at mine but we can hang out here for an hour or two pack some pjs or whatever."

I sighed. I hadn't seen her since her last visit at the hospital and to be honest I didn't want to see her. I trudged up the stairs to stand in front of the closed bedroom door, slowly I turned the handle to push the door open to reveal my dark room, bed unmade just the way I had left it. I wondered if my bathroom was still stained with my blood and the blades were scattered every where.

Jackson walked past me into my room looking back reassuringly at me, "common babe, it's okay, it's just a room," he smiled at me, "I need to have a shower, I'll use the one down the hall. Call out to me if you need me."

He walked out of the room and I could hear him walk down the hall and close the bathroom door.

I walked into my room, I never thought I would be doing this again. I opened my curtains as the midday sun streamed in through the window lighting up the sad, dark room. I looked toward my bathroom door that looked to be firmly shut, I quickly looked away towards the full length mirror placed in my room on the wall. I slowly and reluctantly stood before its judging reflection. My hair was a tumble weed I hadn't gotten the chance to brush it since god knows when. My face was clear no make up and it looked paler but fuller, the dark shadows were still faint under my eyes but barely visible. I knew I had gained weight, not a lot but some. I looked away pain filled my face, this was going against everything. I was suppose to be losing weight not gaining it, my goal now seemed to get further and further away by the second; I would never reach it.

I walked to my bed and kneeled down and wrapped my frail fingers around the familiar flat object. I pulled the scale from under my bed and stared at it. I wonder what the number would display if I stepped on the cool platform, to feel the familiar comfort of my feet on cool stainless steel. I traced the screen where the numbers would be displayed if it were on. I would never see those beautiful three numbers of 105 displayed on that tiny dark screen or any number less for that matter. I grimaced before roughly pushing it back under my bed and stumbled my way to my bathroom door. I wrapped my shaking hand around the cool knob. What would lay on the other side? A bloody mess? Were my blades still scattered all over the floor, like sparkly silver diamonds of death laid upon the cool white of the tiles.

I twisted the handle and pushed open the door revealing my bathroom as it had looked a week ago, clean and not a stain of red exposed.

The feeling of disappointment washed over me, I wanted to see the mess I had made. I wanted to see my blood smudged all over the floor like a little kid dropping the red paint palette.

I stood there staring at the spot that I had nearly left the world in, it seemed darker against the white tiles, like I had left a shadow that death had nearly graced its presence upon. I knew it was just my imagination. I looked up to my mirror to see the tinniest little splatter of dark, dried up blood like dried up tomato sauce. The only evidence of what happened that night did in fact happen. No normal person would have noticed it but I did. A tear escaped my eye, I knew deep down I didn't want to leave anymore. I couldn't, not when I had Jackson.

A pair of toned damp arms wrapped around my stomach and pulled me to his chest, "you don't have to see this Malory. I shouldn't have left you alone, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"No it's okay, you needed a shower and I would've had to face this sooner or later.." My words trailed off.

He then leant his head on my shoulder his wet hair brushing the side of my face. I put my hand gently to his face placing it on his cheek, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to see me that way.. I'm so sorry Jackson," a sob escaped my chest.

He turned me around so that we were face to face, his eyes blaring into my own as I looked at me feet his hands were placed firmly on my shoulders, "hey," he tilted my chin up with one of his hands so we locked eyes. I didn't dare look away from those gorgeous pools of comfort and kindness, "don't worry about that Mel. I'm just happy your alive and breathing."

He pulled me into his chest and locked his arms securely around my back, I buried my face into it smelling his sweet scent of washing powder and cologne that still lingered in his clothes, it smelt like home. The boy that I met on the bridge, the boy that rushed to save my pathetic life, the boy that calls me beautiful, the boy that refused to leave my side, the boy I have barely known for a week but feels like an eternity. This boy was my home, my safe haven.

He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head, "common lets get your stuff."

He pulled away lacing his hand with mine before pulling me with him.