Guardian

chapter seven

I barely had time to process what Jaime had just said before he started to disappear.

"Jaime? Jaime, what's happening?!" I asked, scared to death.

He simply smiled at me and said: "I've done my time Vic. See you on the other side." And with that, he was gone. That was it? He had just told me that he loved me, and now he wasn't coming back? Would I even see him ever again? A million questions filled my head, but I didn't have the answers to any of them. Jaime was the one who was supposed to tell me what was going on- what would I do without him? The only thing I could think to do now was check up on Kellin. He was the only person I had left, since Jaime was gone and I couldn't visit Mike without wanting to communicate so badly.

When I appeared in Kellin's room, the first thing I saw was a bottle of scotch. I groaned; what had happened to make him want to drink so heavily this time? I quickly scanned his appearance. It looked like he had been brutally beaten up- again. I was in the middle of wondering who had done it to him this time when I noticed all the blood. Unlike last time, he was using a knife to tear himself to shreds.

No, no, no, I thought to myself desperately. The marks being left behind looked deep- too deep. What was he trying to do, kill himself? No, if that's what he was going for he would have looked for a vein or an artery. I watched in terror as he continued to slice through his leg, not even wincing as the blade broke through his skin. I knew that I couldn't allow him to keep going; he would bleed to death at this rate. Gathering all my strength, I knocked the knife out of his hand and tossed it carelessly to the other side of the room. Where it ended up didn't matter to me, as long as Kellin didn't have it.

"That's enough," I muttered. As I looked down at Kellin I felt awful. He looked positively traumatized. Truthfully, I was hoping he would be too drunk to comprehend what was going on. Instead, he curled into a tiny ball on the floor and began sobbing. The poor kid probably thought he was going crazy. I knew it would scare him, but I also knew that if I just left him there he would lose too much blood, so I scooped him up into my arms. He whimpered quietly as I laid him on the bed, but didn't put up a fight. I hoped fervently that he would be too drunk to remember this in the morning.

A couple of wet cloths and bandages later, Kellin was tucked into bed and snoring peacefully. As I watched him sleep, a fuzzy memory hit me. A while back (when I was still alive) I had been in the same position as Kellin. I had cut so deep into my wrist that I honestly thought I was going to die. I don't remember much after that; I would be surprised if I was even conscious. However, when I woke up the next day my wrist had been bandaged and the blood had been cleaned. I'd always assumed that it was Mikey's doing but what if it had been Jaime? It would explain why Mike had never said anything about it later. Was it true then? Had Jaime been watching over me like a guardian angel?

Unable to know for sure, and too anxious to sit around doing nothing, I picked up the scotch and began carrying it to the kitchen. Halfway down the stairs I began to feel a bit woozy. What was it that Jaime had said about moving things too much? Uh oh. I had a bad feeling about this.

I had almost reached the kitchen and placed the bottle safely on the counter when I felt myself falling. I was completely unable to keep myself upright. The last thing I heard before my head hit the floor was the sound of glass shattering against the floor, the noise resounding throughout the house.