Behind the bully (On Hold)

Chapter Five

 "I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have followed you yesterday! I thought I would be able to get through to you, to help you, I- I- I-" Amy broke of in tears again. I sighed, I had only just managed to get her to stop crying.

"Amy, Amy, it's alright, shh, don't worry it's all going to be fine" I soothed her. I blinked in surprise, I hadn't looked after or soothed or been kind to anyone for, since, I can't remember. 

"No, no it's not alright! You almost killed yourself and it's all my f- f- fault!" she sobbed. My eyes widened in surprise, now I finally understood why she was crying so hard, she blamed herself for what had happened. My brow furrowed as I tried to think of a reason that she would blame herself, all she'd done was stop me from kiling myself.

"Amy, Amy! How is it all your fault?" I asked confused. She looked at me in disbelief.

"If it wasn't for me following you at the start of today, and then saying that stuff to you, you wouldn't have done any of that!" she explained, still sobbing, "And you wouldn't have to be here, on this bed, with that thing sticking into your arm and that other thing beeping so annoyingly!" she gestured to the shiny white hospital bed I was sitting on and the needle sticking into my left arm, giving me blood that I had lost. It had been over four hours since the incident, three of which I slept for while the doctors operated. Amy had only been allowed inside the ward with me around 5 minutes ago, every minute of which I had spent trying to calm her down.

"Amy, you did the right thing! That's not the reason I, yeah" I exclaimed, unable to say the words 'kill myself'. She looked up at me through tear stained, running mascara lashes.

"R-r-really?" she asked, calming down a little.

"Yes" I said solemnly.

"Why then?" she asked. This brought me up short. There was no way I could tell anyone about this, it was too difficult. Plus, I didn't want anyone else knowing how weak and worthless I really was; not even my mother cared. She was told about what had happened to me, and she wasn't even at the hospital yet; four hours later! And it's not like it mattered what my dad thought, he was gone.

Now I was the one crying.

"Don't, don't worry. I'll, I'll be ok" I managed through sobs. She looked at me skeptically.

"No, no you will not be! You need to talk to someone about this, this is killing you, literally! You. Need. To. Talk. To. Someone" she said carefully enunciating each word. I shook my head violently and then gasped at the pain it caused me; I had a splitting head-ache from the loss of blood. Still, the thought of talking to someone about this was even worse than the pain from the headache or my arm.

"No" I repeated.

"Yes" Amy started, "Bianca, what if you try that again..."

"NO!" I yelled at her. I heard the beeping of the machine beside me go crazy and a nurse rushed into the room to check my pulse. Then she got up and gave us both a disaproving look.

"Girls, you can't go around yelling in here, also, if Bianca's blood pressure goes up or down any further than it's supposed to be, there is a chance she will die." the nurse finished giving us both a disaprovin glare and walking out of the room. Amy looked pale.

"Amy, are you ok? You look pale" I said.

"Oh, I- I'm fine I'm just stressed out. She said you could d-d-d-" I cut her off.

"Don't. Don't say it, I'm not going to die, just calm down" I said sternly. Her eyes widened.

"You, you're not even worried are you?" she said in awe.

"No. Think about it, who put me here?" I asked. She thought for a while, her brow furrowing.

"Nurse, Gabriell I think her name was" she answered, confused. I rolled my eyes.

"No, not literally put me in here" I said exasperated. "Who's fault is it that I'm here?" 

"Oh," understanding blazed across her fragile face, I had never realised how perfectly innocent her features look what with the fair freckleless skin, large deep chocolate brown eyes and her blond-turning-brown hair. Her full, plush pink lips, her perfectly straight nose, her large black eyelashes. I had never noticed before how absolutely beautiful this girl was.

"So," Amy said in a quiet whisper, "you don't care whether you die or not?" I thought about that for a second. I wasn't afraid of dying, but did that mean I didn't care? Now that that wash of depression was over I could think clearly again. Did I want to kill myself? To never again hear the birds fluttering around in the trees? To never again see the bright warming sun at day and the light peaceful moon at night? To never again smell freshly made cookies wafting in through the street when the neighbours would bake? To never again taste the sweet but tangy taste of freshmade lemonade? To never again feel the plush green grass of the bush down the road?

"Yes" I answered. 

"So you don't or you do?" Amy questioned. I realised how little information I'd inserted into my answer and quickly groped for another.

"Yes, yes I do care. I don't want to die" I said, this new revelation dawning on me. Amy's mouth twitched into a bit of a smile.

"I knew you'd turn around. Remember this, Bianca, you don't want to die" Amy finished, putting heavy emphasis on the last five words. I smiled reassuringly.

"Thanks"