One Last Thing ✅

thirty-five things

Blink.

Blink.

Agony.

The pain sizzling up my left arm is unpleasant, yes, but it's the underlying meaning that really gets me. The fact that I'm still here to feel it at all, the fact that I failed. That I'm lying in this hospital, taking up space, wasting air, while a little girl faces this stupid, cruel world without her mother.

All because of me.

The thought hurts a million times more than the physical pain of my body, though I suspect I've been pumped full of medication.

There's a movement in the corner of my eye. I turn my head, expecting to see Grams. But it's not. Sitting in the two chairs in the corner of the room are Riley and Jared. Abbott leans against the wall next to them, arms crossed over his chest.

At the sight of him, I'm reminded of the sound of splintering wood as he put his fist through my bedroom door. I remember the horrified look on his face when he saw me and the blood soaking my quilt. The panic in his voice when he ordered Riley to call 911. The sirens, first faint and far away, and then louder and louder until they were blaring in my own front yard.

Damn it, Abbott.

Damn all of you.

Rage pulses under my skin.

Why couldn't you just let me be?

Riley quits fiddling with her phone and notices that I'm awake. "Hey," she says gently, pushing herself to her feet. "Your grandmother went to get something to eat. Said she'd be right back."

Abbott straightens, walks toward the door. "I'll go find her."

After he leaves, I stare at Riley and Jared. "What are you doing here?" I ask. There is a smoldering fury in me, that they kept me from the peace I so desperately wanted, yes, but it's not evident in my voice. Only weariness, resignation.

Riley shoots Jared a nervous glance. "We got worried when you didn't show up to lunch. Jared suggested we look for you. And we saw that you'd left the front door standing open, and... we just had a hunch."

I can barely keep the surprise off my face. After what I did to Jared's car, how could he possibly be concerned about my well-being? "You did?"

Jared is staring at the floor. "Well, yeah."

"Why?" I can't help from asking.

He looks up. "Lil. Just because we're having problems... that doesn't mean I don't care about you. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Which you obviously aren't," Riley says loudly. I can see my own anger reflected in her eyes. "What the hell were you thinking? I mean, I knew you cut yourself, but I never thought you'd take it so far." Her voice trembles. "I just want to know... why?"

Jared shuffles his feet nervously. "I think I'll go help Abbott find your grandmother." He walks out, leaving me to face Riley and her questions.

And then it dawns on me.

I was in such a rush to end myself, I didn't leave anything behind. No note. Nothing. Picturing Grams finding my decimated body without any explanation, I feel a deeper self-loathing than I did standing in the Edwards backyard, facing the man whose life I ruined. Guilt needles through me.

My eyes catch on the IV I'm hooked up to and travel over to the machine that's monitoring my vital signs. The numbers show my heartbeat, my blood pressure, and some others I'm not really sure about. What I would give for those numbers to drop to zero.

"Why? Because I'm shit, Riley. I mean, it's not complicated. If it weren't for me, Mrs. Edwards would be alive."

Riley sits on the bed next to me. Her eyes rest on my bandaged wrist. I can't help but follow her lead. There's only the one bandaged arm because Abbott broke through the door before I could finish, and, to tell the truth, I didn't have enough strength to do the second one, anyway. I flash back to the moment directly following the first slash but before my friends showed up. I would never admit it aloud, but there was a brief moment of fear that I'd made the wrong choice.

What does that mean?

Riley rests her hand on my leg. "You can't do anything to help Mrs. Edwards now," she says quietly. "But there are other things you can do."

The warmth of her seeps through the blanket and into my skin. It's almost as if I can feel it flowing through me, thawing me somehow, though I never knew I was frozen. It's only when you start to get warm that you truly realize how cold you were, I guess. Savoring the sensation, I probe the meaning of her words.

There are other things you can do.

"Like what?" I finally ask, unable to come up with anything on my own.

She tips her head to the right thoughtfully. "Well, we don't have to come up with a comprehensive list right now. There's plenty of time. I'll help you think of things." She gives me a sweet smile. Then, ever so gently, she leans down and kisses the bandage covering my wrist. 

"I'll help you heal."