Jet Black Hearts / l.h.

34

Monday, November 10, 2018
5:30 p.m.
Stony Trails Park

I'm about to just give up and leave. It has only been a few minutes since I texted Luke that I needed him, but the waiting isn't what's making me want to go home and forget it all. Despite never calling me one, I can't help but feel like a nuisance to him.

So pathetic and so useless. Why did I even tell Luke? He doesn't care. No one cares. I don't even care. The old couple that walked by me sitting on this park bench, crying, didn't even bat an eye.

I clench my shaking hands and squeeze until I feel the comforting sting in my palms from my nails.

"Brin?" Luke's voice calls from behind. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to stop the tears, but as his footsteps near and he says my name again, tears slip down my cheeks.

I feel Luke sit next to me on the bench. I try to wipe the tears off my face, but Luke's hand wraps around my wrist to stop me.

"You don't have to hide- oh my god, you're bleeding." He drops my wrist immediately.

I look up and see that he's looking at his hand he grabbed my wrist with, a horrified expression on his face. There's a thin layer of blood, my blood, on his palm and on some of his fingers. His eyes shift from his own hand to the wrist he grabbed. Blood soaks through my jacket sleeve from the cuts under neath that run from my wrist to the inside of my elbow. Shame and disgust at my own actions fill me and I regret contacting Luke.

He still seems to be in shock, his eyes wide and frightened as he just looks at the dark blood seeping through my sleeve. My arms starts to feel numb, but it isn't an unfamiliar feeling.

I look down at my shoes and intake a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I whisper and squeeze my eyes shut as more tears fall. "I hate myself, I don't feel real, nothing feels real. I have nothing to live for." I sniff and cover my face with my hands as I continue to list off all of my thoughts that have been tormenting me. "I want to die. God, I want to die so bad. There's no point, nothing matters, I don't matter."

"That's all bullshit," Luke blurts, snapping out of his state of initial shock. "None of what you said is true, Brinley."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I pull my knees up and hug them to my chest as I hide my face in them. "I'm so sorry, Luke."

"I know you are," he says, urgency in his voice. "I'm going to look at your arm now, okay?"

I want to fight back and keep my arm hidden, but I start to feel weaker and weaker. Luke easily takes my arm and extends it, rolling up the sleeve. As soon as the chilled air painfully hits my cut up skin, Luke makes a choking sound of shock. His hands shake as he holds my arm and I don't dare show my face as a bead of blood rolls off my skin.

"Brin, you need to go to the hospital," his voice cracks.

I shake my head.

"Yes, come on," Luke urges and tries to pull me up. I struggle in his grip and cry harder.

"No! Luke, stop!" I sob, latching a hand onto the bench as he manages to lift me from sitting.

"You'll bleed out if you don't get this treated!" Luke'a volume rises as his urgency does.

"That's the fucking point!" My fingers slip off of the bench and I turn, pushing against Luke's chest to get him away from me. "I want to die, please!"

Luke stumbles back but keeps one hand around my uninjured arm. He looks back at an onlooking group of kids that were playing on the basketball court and calls, "Call 000!"

The kids just stare at us in fright, but one of them quickly pulls out a phone.

My head gets fuzzy and I feel my knees give out. I stumble and fall to the ground, but I catch myself on my hands and knees.

"Brin!" Luke gets to his knees and sets a hand on my back. He tries to get me to sit up, but my head is spinning so much that I feel like I would just topple over.

He manages to get me to sit with my knees bent in front of me, but my mind is so cloudy that I don't remember sitting like this. I look down and see both of Luke's hands gripped around my forearm as he applies pressure to try to stop the bleeding. I try to rip my arm away, but my muscles feel like mush.

I let my eyes flutter closed. The sun was getting too bright.

One of Luke's bloody hands shakes my shoulder. "Hey, keep your eyes open, stay with me," he encourages. When I don't comply, he shakes me harder. "Brin, please, look at me."

My eyes open into slits. Luke is looking at me with more terror and concern I've ever seen on anyone. His blue eyes lock with mine and a little hope is sprung into his face.

"That's right, just keep them open now, okay? You're going to be alright."

No. I don't want to be alright.

I let my eyes close again.

Luke shakes my roughly, but I don't open them. "Brinley, damnit! Open your fucking eyes!"

I hear the sirens in the distance. They couldn't be for me, could they?

I lift my hand, my arm feeling like a heavy lead bar, and grip onto Luke's hands. They're slippery and warm with my blood. With unconsciousness fast approaching, I muster up all of my strength and whisper, "I'm sorry."

Then everything goes black. The last thing I register is Luke's desperate scream.