Speak Now (A Shoey Fanfic)

Chapter 18

Dying is a weird sensation. It's painful, but it's soothing. You knew that it would end soon.

You start to lose your senses. Hearing went first for me. I could hardly hear Meghan screaming my name...

Meghan?

My eyes shot open. The lighting in the room was excessively bright.

Fluorescent, I think. How long was I out?

I plunged the knife into my stomach.

I sat up quickly. I was in the hospital. I tried to kill myself...

"Sit down, Joey. You're not quite to full health yet."

"Meghan?"

There were tears in her eyes, "Yeah, Joey, it's me."

"Why... Why am I alive?"

She started to cry, "Sawyer called me. He told me he was at your place and you seemed upset. I got really freaked out, so I came as fast as I could. But it was to late," Her voice cracked, "The knife was already inside you. I was so scared. I called the ambulance right away, and then took the knife out. You bled a lot. It got all over the floor, it was so-" She burst out into a fit of sobs.

"Shh," I took her hand, "You don't have to tell me."

"No, you deserve to know..."

"Know what?"

"The reason you didn't die is because you're a weak piece of shit."

I was startled by her response, "What?"

"You didn't get it in deep enough. You could have bled out if I didn't call the ambulance, sure, but you didn't put the knife in deep enough."

I laughed a little, but it hurt excessively.

"Hey, Jo-" She was cut off.

"Joey!" Shane came running in the room, and he wrapped his arms around me tightly.

Despite myself I winced, "Ow, ow, fuck!"

"Oh, sorry..."

"No, it's okay," I took his hand, "I promise."

"No, it's not. You tried to kill yourself, Joey. This is all my fault..."

"It's my fault, not yours. It wasn't just you who made me want to do it."

A tear trickled down his cheek, "That was the scariest moment of my life. I can't loose you, I can't..."

I placed my hands on his cheeks, "You don't have to. I'm never going to leave."

He parted his lips like he was going to speak, but he shut them quickly. I looked at his eyes, but he wasn't looking at me.

He was looking at my wrists.

I yanked my arms away from his view, "I'm fine." I mumbled.

"You did this to yourself?"

"I didn't know what to do," I tucked my arms behind my back, "It's stupid, I know."

His expression softened, "You're ashamed of them."

I didn't say anything.

The scars made me me weak. It made me look fragile. The sight of them sickened me.

"Joey, these don't make you weak, they make you strong. It shows that you made it through the hardest of times."

"If I was strong I wouldn't have cut myself in the first place," I mumbled.