Start Again

Do You Remember?

*IMPORTANT NOTE: TRIGGER WARNING! If you are triggered or easily offended by the topic of death, suicide, drugs, or the mention of anxiety then don't read this chapter*

I knew Billy was just yelling things because he was drunk and angry, but I couldn't stop thinking about what he said. It kept me awake that night. There was a 3 month period of my life that was missing from my memory. During that time all I could remember was drinking from the time I woke up to when I had passed out.

There had also been the small memory fragments of seeing two lines of powder on a coffee table, one line had oddly looked darker than the other. Every time the memory had come up I thought it was just from my time with Jamie in the back room we lived in at the hotel.

Now I was starting to doubt myself and my memories. I kept thinking about that hazy image of the two lines of drugs. The more I forced myself to think about it the clearer the image became in my head. I knew now that the coffee table had been in my flat with Billy in Knotting Hill.

Out of no where memories from that three month period started to come back to me. It brought on waves of fear, anxiety, and panic. I rolled over and curled up to Martin's side for comfort.

"Are you still awake?" He whispered and wrapped his arms around me. I jumped as the sound of his voice broke the silence and tried to look up in the dark to see him. "I didn't wake you did I?" I quietly asked and squinted at him in the dark.

"No, you didn't wake me. I couldn't go back to sleep" Martin replied before turning on the lamp that sat on the nightstand. The room quickly filled with light and I found myself panicking more. I was scared that Martin would see the fear clearly painted on my face when he looked down at me, and he did.

"Blair, what's wrong?" Martin asked as he sat up pulling me up with him too. "I was thinking about what Billy said" I said as my voice shook. Martin wrapped his toned arms around me firmly. "I think I did try to kill myself, but I still don't fully remember" I began to shake in Martin's arms.

"What do you mean you don't fully remember?" Martin asked as he rubbed my back to comfort me. "Mart, there's almost three whole months of my life that I had no memory of until just a few minutes ago when I had to force myself to remember" I replied. 

"What do you remember?" Martin asked. He kissed my head as I tried to think. "I remember almost dying three different times and possibly dying for a bit once" I said as I could feel Martin let out a small gasp. I explained as Martin continued to try and comfort me.

The first time I was found by a friend who came to check in on me because Billy was worried, I don't remember exactly who it was. I was unconscious and just barely breathing on the floor of my flat. I remember stumbling around the flat and becoming light-headed before blacking out.

"A nurse told me later that my eyes had rolled back in my head. She said that my blood alcohol content was 1.25% and they were all surprised that I was still alive" I said and rested my head on Martin's shoulder. "The other three times, including the time I think I died for a bit, was probably because of drugs? I'm not too sure" I said confused.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to" Martin assured me as he kissed my head again. "I can't talk about it even if I wanted to, I don't remember most of it" I said as my voice started shaking again and I began crying.

"Isn't there someone you could ask that would know? Even if it's Billy?" Martin asked as he wiped my tear streaked face. I thought for a second and tried to remember who had found me the first time on the floor. "No, not Billy. He was on tour with his band a lot then. Maybe Steve knows" I answered.

"Ring him in the morning, right now you need sleep" Martin said and laid me down on the bed. I looked up at him and touched his cheek just under his bruised eye. "I'm sorry you got dragged into my mess with Billy" I said and stroked his cheek.

"I dragged myself into it, for you Blair and I would do it again without hesitating" Martin replied. He pecked my lips before turning off the light and laying down next to me. I wrapped my arms around his torso as I placed my head on his chest.

The first thing I did when I woke up was call Steve who complained about me bothering him so early in the morning. Martin sat with his arms around me and his head on my shoulder as I talked to Steve.

"Jonesy, did you find me in my flat when I was passed out unconscious?" I asked getting to the point of my phone call. He let out a loud sigh. "I did and I was there in the room when you died. They cut you open to squeeze your heart back to life" Steve said making me gasp. That was something I clearly had no memory of.

"That...that didn't happen" I said in shock. "Then why do you have that scar between your tits from it?" He asked. I pinned the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I pulled up my shirt and pushed my breasts apart. Steve was right, there was a three inch thin scar hidden between my cleavage.

"Mart, look" I said as I turned my chest towards him. He looked down from his spot on my shoulder and ran his finger across the scar. "Don't do that" I giggled before pulling my shirt down again. Steve let out an annoyed grunt on the phone.

"Do you remember any of the other times I almost died?" I asked him. "I don't think this is a conversation to have on the phone. We'll talk about it when you come back to California" He protested. "Well make it one because I'm not going back there for a while" I said pushing him to tell me everything and he did. I had the phone held between both my ear and Martin's so I wouldn't have to tell the story to him after.

Steve told me everything in such detail that I could almost remember the odd feeling of my heart stopping and the blackness that followed. With the exception of the first time all the near death experiences, and the short time when my heart had stopped, had been because of a mixture of a lot of cocaine, an even heavier dose of heroin, and a little bit of alcohol.

The two times I had come close to dying because of my almost fatal mix had been accidental. Steve claimed that I had just been pushing my limit of what I could take. He said I told him that I wanted to be a numb blob on the couch not feeling pain until Billy was back home so I could cope with my grief properly.

The time my heart had stopped had been on purpose. That much I remembered on my own. Steve explained that he and Simon Barker found me slumped across the coffee table with blood puddling from my nose and a glass syringe shattered against my arm from the impact of hitting the table.

He said I left a note saying I didn't want to feel any pain anymore, that I was done with seeing people I loved die, that I was sorry for anyone that would mourn for me, and sorry for whoever found me. Steve found that part funny, even though I had killed myself I was thinking about the people I loved more than I was thinking about myself.

"I cleaned you up while Simon called for an ambulance. I didn't want anyone else to see you looking like that all covered in blood. I burned the note, I told Simon that we didn't need it because I wasn't going to let you die even if I had to bring you back myself. We refused to leave your side when they cut you open. They tried to shock you with those fucking horrible things and when they didn't work they cut a hole in your chest. They broke your ribs open and some fucking doctor squeezed his hand into the hole and started squeezing your heart in his hands" Steve never paused for me to speak, he knew I wouldn't have anything to say.

"When you finally woke up after it all happened you didn't even remember who you were. When your memories came back you remembered everything but not almost dying. Simon, Billy, and I thought it was the best thing for you, so we never told you. Well...until now" Steve said and let out a loud sigh again.

"You're not a bad person Blair. You just make really stupid decisions sometimes, but I think we all love you more for not being so perfect in the end" Steve assured me. During the entire time Steve was talking Martin had done everything he could to comfort me. He held my hand, hugged me, rubbed my back, squeezed my hand, cleaned my face of tears, and kissed my head, temple, hand, shoulder, and cheek.