Maine
I'd like to let you in on a secret. Pain is easier to deal with, sadness is a much better company to keep.
I'm happy, but sometimes it feels so unreal. I'm happy now, just like I was happy before. But is this enough to keep me here? I was happy before, but the world took it away from me. I'm happy now and I wonder if there's someone out there, waiting to ruin it for me.
Alden makes me happy, and he was right, it scares me. I'm so scared that if I let myself live this happy life, somewhere in this fucked up universe, there's going to be something bad that will happen and I'll once again be left alone sitting in this void of nothingness.
Life is cruel, but I suppose I can be cruel to myself.
My fingers are trembling but I feel the pain on the first cut. It reminds me that things hurt and I'm not numb. Dark crimson flows against my skin, the red streaked against my paleness. The pain ebbs and I press the edge against me one more time–it's a bit deeper and I feel the darkness closing in on me. I should be able to wake up tomorrow–I hope–but for now, this pain is enough to let me know that there are things that will hurt.
I feel lightheaded and dizzy, and maybe a little bit sleepy. I hear the door open and close outside, but I'm not sure if it was real because this usually happens–you think about things that never really mattered. I can feel the warm blood dripping against my arm, pooling on the bathroom floor, the red a stark contrast to the blinding whiteness of the tiles. I can hear someone call my name and it sounds so much like Alden.
Oh God, Alden.
He shouldn't see me like this. I told him that I don't need the pain anymore. He shouldn't see me like this. I hold on to the toilet seat to heave myself up but I'm too weak and my fingers feel like they couldn't grasp anything so I fall back, my knees hitting the floor as I try to keep myself from falling. The door opens just in time for the darkness to come.
Alden
There is blood on the floor. There is blood on the floor and on her arm; the crimson liquid seeping through the denim fabric of her shorts and the stainless blade glinted against the fluorescent lights. Her head was slumped over the toilet and she looked like she was about to get up, if only she wasn't weak and bleeding all over the place.
I don't think it's something that I could get out of my head, not when my mind worked itself frantically thinking of what I should do. I honestly don't recall calling for an ambulance, but it seemed like I did since a group of medics came rushing in while I cradled her in my arms, desperately trying to stop her from bleeding. The cuts are deep and it seemed like she also cut my heart open.
I filled up forms and signed them without even thinking. I couldn't get my eyes off of her as she lay in a stretcher with pale lips and her eyes closed, like she was just a ghost of the girl I knew. I just told her I loved her and she told me that she was happy–but is this what happy looks like?
The doctors tell me she's going to be fine. She'll need psychiatric help, they say, but the words fall flat as I struggle to see her in the hospital bed, admitted for hurting herself. I know she's half-awake, with the way her eyelids fluttered and her fingers twitching against her sides.
"Please don't hesitate to call our nurses or me if you need anything, Mr. Richards," the doctor whose name escapes me says and I nod at him dumbly before he leaves the room.
"I know you're awake," I say and Maine opens her eyes, looking straight at the hospital window. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," she whispers, like there was barely any strength left in her. I move to the side of her bed, pushing away the stray hairs away from her face. She's still so beautiful, but it pains me to see her looking so empty.
"Sabi mo, masaya ka."
"Masaya naman ako Alden," she bit her lip, trying to stop the tears from falling and her eyes shift away from me. "Totoo naman yung sinabi ko sa 'yo."
"Masaya ba 'to? Sabihin mo nga sa akin kung masaya ka sa ganito?" I ask, my voice rising as my hands gripped on the bars beside her bed, my knuckles turning white. Maine looks away and I can see her cry, but there's a part of me that wishes she would understand how much this hurts–how much my heart hurt when I saw her slumped over her own blood. "Meng, ang damot mo. Ang damot damot mo."
"I'm sorry."
"Ano, kaya mo akong iwan kasi ayaw mo na? Ganito ba talaga? Pag di na kaya, bibitaw ka na?"
Her arms are wrapped in pristine white bandages, the gauze seeping with blotches of dark red. It hurts me to know that she's bleeding and I couldn't save her from herself.
"I'm sorry."
"Stop it Maine."
"I'm sorry."
She's shaking, her tiny body wracked with pain as she sobbed. I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to rage, to make her feel how much this hurts. I want to hate myself because I know that she's willing to throw away her life because of her fears and not even I can save her from it.
"Maine," I whimper as I sit on the edge of her bed, my hands holding on to her. I absolutely have no idea what else to do but I am right here giving her everything because I don't know how I'd be able to live without her. "Maine, please."
"I'm sorry," she's crying and I feel like my chest is going to explode from all this pain. "I'm sorry, Alden."
