Hold Me Before I Fall

Chapter 1: Waking Up

I wake up on a couch I don’t recognise and a headache. I look around me, recognising the layout, but not the furniture. I was in the same apartment complex, but not the same apartment.

I grip my head, this was not how I expected to wake up. I wasn’t expecting to wake up, I was expecting to be dead.

I groan. Everything hurts, and I feel tired. I should feel tired, last night was a long night and I probably got less than 2 hours of sleep. Maybe an hour? An hour and 30 minutes?

I didn’t have time to calculate how long I slept, as someone walks in with a plate of something that smells good, and a cup of what looks like orange juice.

“Morning kid, sleep well?” I don’t respond. I don’t know this person, therefore I do not trust their plate of what looks like pancakes, nor their maybe-drugged orange juice.   

“Not much of a talker, huh?” No.

“Well, sorry for waking you up, maybe… Uh, I made this for you...uhm, the pancakes are homemade, and uhh...so it the orange juice. If uhm, you wanna eat it you can...only if you want too of course! You don’t really know me so..heh..uh...bye!”

They sound just as awkward as I feel. Maybe they aren’t as much as a talker either, but that doesn’t mean anything. I could drink that orange juice and literally die...but wait...isn’t that what I wanted? Why am I scared of possibly poisoned orange juice as if it was poisoned I could die…?

I chug the orange juice and hope it was poisoned.

I eat the pancakes and hope razors are in it.

I sound silly.

I sit and wait for nothing, I’m probably waiting for whoever that person is to let me leave, but I like this place. The atmosphere is nice and cozy, and their couch is so comfortable I could sleep another week on it.

The person walks in.

“So..uh...hi. My name is...uhm...Eliza, and I go by they/them pronouns..uhm...yeah..”

They look cute.

What?!

Nothing.

I remain silent, I don’t trust them yet.

“Still not talking?” Yes, I can see you have ears.

“Well that’s okay! Uhm, when you are comfortable with talking, please explain to me why you were on the roof last night… if you want”
I wince, I nearly forgot what I did last night, yet Eliza had to remind me. Thanks. They see me wince and frown.

“Sorry! Uh...I didn’t mean to remind you...uhm…I’ll be right back…” They leave the room. I sit and stare at the ceiling. They come back and itch their arms.

“So...uh...wanna go home?”

I think, I want too, but this person seems really nice. But I also want to finish what I started, so I shrug.

“I can’t let you out till I get an answer…”

I just nod. This person doesn’t matter anyway. I can go home, overdose or something and get it over with.

But...This person saved me for a reason...I don’t want to hurt them.

I just sigh, and look up at them with pleading eyes, as if begging them to let me go, even if I might want to die. But they just shake their head.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t if you’re still like this. I have a spare room by mine. You can stay there till I completely know you’re safe.” I frown. Oh well, at least I get to eat homemade possibly-poisoned pancakes, and orange juice.

The next morning I wake up in a surprisingly comfy bed, in a room that’s not mine. The sun is hidden by the blinds on the window, and my door is closed, blocking out the noises of the shower running.

I don't want to get up, so I stay in bed and stare at the ceiling, wishing for some sort of release from this friendly prison. They have treated me well, surprisingly. Unlike them most people would have pointed and laughed. I can hear their taunting voices in my head and I shake myself out of the nightmare that is my daydream.

I force myself up, and get dressed, not even bothering to take a shower and brush my hair, even though they already got out.

I grab my phone off of its charger and walk into the living room. I sit on the couch and watch some crappy reality tv-show, as I wAit for possibly-poisoned breakfast.

To my surprise, it doesn’t come.

They’re taking too long in the bathroom again.

This always happen, and I roll my eyes, thinking about all the annoying things they could be doing in there.

Gawking at themselves in the mirror?

Taking too much time to put on makeup?

Curiosity overwhelms me and I sneak up to the door.

I press my ears against it and listen closely...I don’t hear anything till about a minute later. A jolt of concern flows through me when I hear cries of pain. What are they doing in there? I knock.

“U-uh, Eliza? Are you okay? Did you fall or something?”

I can hear them jump in surprise.

“I-i-i’m fine! J-just a second!” Fake joy.

I hear them put something away, the sink turn on and off, and the door opens.

Their eyes are bloodshot, yet they’re faking a smile.

I instantly realize what they were doing and roll up their sleeve.

Dear god.