We Couldn't Get Along Without Ya

25

"What? Oh, uh, nothing."

"Where did you go?" He asked, sitting up, waking up fully now.

"Just the bathroom." There, not a lie.

"Uh-huh, okay. But you're supposed to wake me up and not go alone, you know that."

"I know, sorry."

"C'mon, get back in bed."

I got back in bed, the blade still in my hand. I guess I had to wait until Soda fell asleep again to put it back. I waited for about ten minutes, when I heard Soda's breathing become soft and rhythmic. And then came my mistake.

I slid carefully off the bed and lifted the mattress slightly, just enough to try and get the blade hidden again. But the second the mattress shifted, I heard Soda's voice. "Katie..."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. I just froze.

"Why are you moving the mattress?" He asked.

"We-uh, we haven't flipped the mattress in awhile and it's um uncomfortable." I said, spitting out the first bullshit story that came to mind.

"And you were planning on flipping it alone? In the middle of the night? With me still on it? Yeah, good idea." He said before getting up and turning on the light. He turned and faced me, still bending down with the mattress slightly lifted. "Stand up."

I sighed and stood up all the way, the blade still in my closed fist. Please don't ask about it, please just let it go and go back to bed.

"What's in your hand?" He immediately asked. Well shit.

"Nothing, lets just go back to bed, I-I'm tired."

"Katie, honey, come on. Open your hands for me." He gently demanded, leaving no room for argument or running, as he stood between me and the door. I could always jump out the window... no, too late, he's onto me. I thought as Soda neared me quickly and gently grabbed my arm.

He opened my hand and took the blade, looking at it and then looking at me. "Where did you get this?"

"Under my mattress." I mumbled, staring at the floor.

"Is this the only one you have?"

I nodded, ashamed of myself yet disappointed I'd been caught and couldn't do it again.

"Let me see."

I rolled up my T-shirt sleeve and showed the makeshift bandaid. I kept my gaze down and stared at the floor, but I knew the face Soda was making; he was hurt.

"Oh honey." He sighed, carefully peeling the tape off and getting a better look at the cuts. "Katie..."

He didn't know what to say, but neither did I. Which was fine because I didn't want to talk. All I wished for in that moment, was death.