The second time I awake, its pitch-black outside and Eric has finally fallen asleep. It’s a good thing too, or else I wouldn’t have time to think about how to approach last night. I close my eyes. I must have tried to do it again. The memory is slowly coming back to me, but it’s all fuzzy, like I’m watching it through a sheet of ice. I remember getting out the razor, locking the bathroom door, and then Eric was there. Somehow. But how did he get in if the door was locked?
I sighed out loud. I would have to talk to Eric about it when he woke up, but how do I start a serious conversation like that? I can see it now: Hey honey, did I try to kill myself again? I did, really? Ok, well I’ll try not to next time. That’s a load of bs. I guess I’ll just do what I did last night, and ask him what happened.
Seconds after I make my decision, I feel a warm hand on the small of my back and Eric’s sweet breath down my neck.
“Good morning, honey.” I say, not at all anxious to start the conversation we’ll eventually have to have. He mumbles in response, not yet fully awake. I take advantage of his current state and decide to have a little fun before we talk seriously.
He moved closer to me, and was starting to prop himself up on one elbow before I playfully pushed him back down onto his back and lied down on top of him so we were face to face. His eyes were closed, and since I was on top of his chest I could feel that his breathing was slow, so of course I was surprised when he wrapped both of his arms around me, holding me in place on top of him.
I smiled and let out a small giggle. “Hey, no fair!”
He smiled and laughed while finally opening his eyes. “You’re so cute when you think you stand a chance against me.” He smirked, and loosened his grip on me a tad bit, but not enough to let me fall off. I was incredibly grateful for that too, because just then my head felt like it was buzzing and black dots swam across my vision.
“Alaska?” The concern in his voice made me want to reassure him more than anything, but I couldn’t respond. Not until the black dots went away. If I even tried to speak I knew I would faint, been there, done that. So instead of responding, I laid my head down on his chest, and counted his heartbeats. For some reason, listening to his heart always helps me, no matter what the situation is.
Once the spots subside, I know we have to talk. But neither of us do. Instead, the tension in our room builds until it’s practically visible.
I bury my head in his chest. “Eric?” I mumble, not bothering to move my face off of him.
“Yes sweetie? Are you okay? What just happened?”
“The spots.”
“Oh.” He sighed before continuing. “God Alaska, why?” While saying this he lifts his head off of the pillow and cups my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. “Why do you do this to yourself?"
His eyes shine with emotion, a mix of wanting to understand what I’m going through, fear of what is making me do this, and love for the scared girl underneath.
YOU ARE READING
Alaska's Fight
Teen FictionI hold it, shaking, ready to die, when he barges in through the door. Literally through it. The lock snaps in half as he tears his way into the bathroom and toward me. "Don't do it!" he screams, over and over again. It's hurting my ears, forcing...
