Save Me

Prologue

Save Me

I kneel on the floor and pick up the remains of my favourite vase. I feel the water absorb into my pant legs, but disregard it. I try to avoid cutting myself on the jagged edges, but my shaking hands betray me. I feel the smooth edge of the glass run along my finger and close my eyes for a second, imagining myself back home with my mom. I hear the front door slam and heave out a sigh of relief, hes gone. I open my eyes and continue to pick up the little glass shards, as well as the white roses my mom sent. I notice that the elegant white petals are starting to turn pink; I question it at first, but then it hits me; its blood. I immediately look down at my hands but theres only a small prick on my middle finger. I feel a sting on my forehead, and I raise my hand to touch the tender spot, I notice the gash on my left arm, bleeding profusely. I curse softly to myself and get up, making my way to the bathroom. The house is a mess; I need to clean it up.

I approach the long hallway where our bathroom and bedroom reside. Clutching onto the door frame for support, I pull myself into the bathroom and stand in front of the bathroom sink, examining myself. My left eye is black and swollen, my nose looks bruised, I have a small gash above my right eyebrow and a bright red handprint on my left cheek. I continue to process the damages, my left arm has a gaping cut, probably going to need stitches. My body aches from hitting the floor so hard. I turn my head to the left and the right, chin up, chin down. As I turn my head to the left again, I can see the marks from his hands on my neck. This is the most volatile he has ever been with me; I shouldve just kept my mouth shut about him going out again tonight.

My first order of conduct to is figure out my arm. I raise my arm up, rest it on the sink and examine closely, definitely needs stitches. I find a darker coloured clean towel and wrap my arm. Looking into the mirror, I realize I need to put on some makeup. I dig under the sink for my makeup kit when I hear my phone ringing. My heart jumps into my throat and I pray it isnt him. I run back to the kitchen island and grab my phone, looking down at the screen I relax instantly, its Mom. I take a deep breath to steady my voice and put on my best fake smile before answering the phone. I reassure her that everything is ok, that him and I are doing just fine and work is going good. After a few minutes of silence I cant take it anymore. I change the topic to my little sister and ask about how school is going for her. My mom follows suit and goes on and on about her. About half an hour later I get off the phone, go to the bathroom and proceed to do my makeup.

As I finish cleaning myself up, I look at the time on my phone, 45 minutes until hes back home. I tidy up the bathroom and fix the towel on my arm so it stays in place, I need to fix the house. I push the couch back to where it belongs, straighten out the coffee table and fluff the throw pillows. I drape the blanket back onto the back of the couch and move to the kitchen. I pick up the rest of the giant glass shards and then grab paper towel to get the water and small shards at the same time. I find a tall glass and put the roses in freshwater. The rose petals brush my hand and I stop for a moment to admire them. With their blood stained petals, I can now relate to them, I am not perfect. I am flawed, and thats okay. The timer I set on my phone goes off, and I am torn out of my safe zone once again. I notice the blood on the floor that I missed and quickly clean it up. By now my arm is aching, and I am starting to feel a little light headed. I need to go to the hospital, but he wont let me go alone. I lean against the island and just ponder, trying not to cry. I need to get out of here, I need help.

I pick up my phone to call my mom again, but then I hear his keys in the door, the lock turning. I gather myself quickly and run to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I flush the toilet a couple seconds after I hear the front door shut and turn the tap on. I begin running ideas through my head of what to do, he calls out my name, I respond and tell him I am in the washroom. I turn off the tap and notice that I forgot to put my eyebrow pencil away, then it hits me. Black dot, on the palm of my hand, I remember seeing it on the news before. I grab the eyebrow pencil, colour a dark spot on the palm of my left hand and put the pencil away. I open the door and come face to face with him. He smiles, looks down at me and then frowns at the towel. I explain to him that I need to get stitches, he nods his head and we head to the car.

As we drive to the hospital, I have all these thoughts running through my mind and that is when I realize, hes done it. He has pushed me over the edge, and I am plunging into the darkness. I should have never left home; I could be safe at home with my mom right now rather than being in a car with this lunatic. I want to kill him, I want to take the steering wheel in my hands and drive us both off of this bridge. Then it will stop, all of the hurting, the physical and emotional pain I have felt on a daily basis for the past year. I am pulled back to the edge of sanity when I look down and see that my mom is calling again. When she begins to ask a question, I cut her off and start speaking in Italian. I have never been more thankful for my Italian heritage than in this moment in time. He gives me a sidelong stare that gives me the message that I need to go back to English; I ignore him and tell my mom she needs to get here as soon as she can. She tells me that she cant. The three words leave my mouth before I realize it: I need you. She can hear the terror in my voice and agrees. I hang up the phone and glance over at him to see him giving me a death stare while we sit at a red light.

We arrive at the hospital, and I flashback to the day I met him, in the emergency room back home. He had attempted to take his own life for the third time since he lost his mom, but he was found before the drugs could kill him. His mom was the last person he had in his life, and that was his breaking point. He had fallen over the edge, and I thought that I could bring him back into the light, but I was obviously wrong. I hear him say my name and realize we are parked. Before he even has a chance to unbuckle, I get out of the car and make a sprint for the door. I am just barely through the door when I hear him yell my name angrily. I run through the emergency room to the closest nurse and start calling for help, tears streaming down my face. I can hear him approaching behind me, but a nurse gets to me faster. She asks me whats going on, and I show her the palm of my hand. Her eyes widen, as he approaches behind me she grabs my hand puts herself between us and states to everyone in the room that there is a code white being called. A man wearing a big black uniform grabs him; he resists and then is tackled to the ground. He begins screaming profanities at me and I just turn my back to him. I slump into the arms of the nurse and just cry, cry for joy and freedom. My name is Rose, and this is my story.

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Ok, I have to say I am actually excited to publish this!

Thanks for reading

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