Cracked Silver

Chapter 13

"Jesse..." I shake his shoulders gently as he lay lifelessly on the couch. 

"Jesse, baby, wake up please." As I held his head on my lap, the skin that overlaid his face grew paler every second. Maybe it looked worse than it actually was because of his dark blood that ran down his cheek. 

"Jesse!" I shout a little louder, bursting into tears as I buried my face in his neck. 

"Get out..." I hear a mutter. My head sprung up like a jack-in-the-box. 

"Sh... honey, we're going to get you some help okay?" I stroked the clear side of his face. 

"No... fuck off," he waved his arms to push me away. 

I carefully picked his head up and lay it on the sofa before walking to the phone and dialing 911. 

"What are you doing?" he slurred "Stop it! Stop..." I hear a thud behind me. 

I turn around and see that he'd fallen off the couch.

"Jesse!" I gripped the phone to my ear as the line was picked up. 

"911, what's your emergency?" 

"Hello! M-my boyfriend, he got really high and he's just fainted a-and I don't know what to do!" 

"Ma'am, what's your boyfriend's condition?" 

I stared over at him, his face was scrunched up in a violent manner. His body was squirming on the floor... He was a mess. My eyes prickled with tears. Because who I saw on the ground, was my brother. Jesse had vanished. 

"Ma'am?" 

"He's on the floor, his body is having, like, small spasms and his eyes keep rolling to the back of his head." I took a shaky breath as I drew my head away from him "Please, just help me." 

"An ambulance is on the way, ma'am. We already have your address."

"Okay, thank you." I put down the phone and don't run to him. Instead, I stare at him from the kitchen counter. As he grunts and howls and stares into the windows of my soul with eyes of fire. He's angry at me. 

"I hate you," he splutters for air, rolling on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I hate you!!!" he laughs, banging his fists on the wooden floor. "I hate you! I hate you!" he toys with the words, laughing and smiling and crying all at the same time. 

"You're a mess," I say, tears now dripping down my cheeks. 

"Yeah, well, you're dead to me." 

My heart lunged itself up my throat. But as the ambulance arrives, they take him away and ask me to ride with him. Of course, I say yes. I couldn't say no. Even though he said those terrible things, he's high. He has no control. Ever since my brother died, I read up on the use of drugs. 

But as I climb into the back of the ambulance, I realize that Jesse is twice as bad as my brother. Except the drugs make him weak, not strong and violent like my sibling. 

The nurse plasters a gas mask over his jaw. He breathes heavily into it while whispering the words, "Help me."