Crash Into Me | ✓

thirty-two

The sound of a door slamming jolted me awake. I blinked my eyes open, adjusting to the dim light of the moon that filtered through the window. The space beside me was empty, and I felt a shiver rip through me.

Hushed voices came from outside the door. In my half-asleep trance I could barely decipher words, only emotions. Angry. Hurt. I pulled myself out of bed, my body still trying to shake sleep out of me, and pushed the bedroom door open slowly. The common area of the suite was empty, but the door to the balcony had been left wide open, filling the room with a cool salty breeze. I shivered again and slid the door shut.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bathroom door cracked open, with little streams of light spilling through the bottom. I moved closer to the door and was about to push it open when Ella's voice rang clear.

"I can't fucking believe this." Her voice cracked when she spoke.

"Well what do you want to do, Ella?" Ricky replied, more calm and collected than Ella, but there was a tired hurt in his words. "He's your brother."

I couldn't breathe. Ricky's words were like a string tethered to my body, pulling me closer until I pushed the door open slowly. I was convinced I was having a nightmare.

Ella stood with her back to the door, and Ricky was crouched over a body leaning against the wall between the glass shower doors and the toilet. Bloody towels were strewn across the bathroom floor, laying in puddles stained red. The water on the sink was running. When Brooklyn's face came into view, my body went numb. His face was ashen, and I couldn't tell if it was tears or sweat that rolled down his cheeks like tiny rivers, mixing with the blood that caked around his nose. A mix of blood and sweat and bile stained the front of his t-shirt, and all the smells hit me like a freight train. It smelled like death. My stomach churned, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I went to step backward, but my legs felt too heavy to lift and grounded me where I stood.

"I'm done cleaning up his messes," Ella hissed. "It's like he makes it his life goal to just ruin everything."

"Ella," Ricky's voice remained steady. "Please. You're only making things worse."

She exhaled sharply. "Worse? How much worse do you think things could possibly get?"

Ricky finally noticed me standing petrified in the doorway, his eyes bloodshot and panicked.

"Much worse," he muttered.

Ella turned around to face me. Locks of her hair stuck to her forehead in sweaty clumps, and streaks of mascara decorated her cheeks like war paint. "Natalie..." she breathed out.

"What's going on?"

It took me a moment to realize I was the one who had spoken. A knot made it's home in my throat, and I was worried if I tried to speak again I'd choke on my own words. Silence marred the air. It seemed like time had stopped entirely.

"I guess Brooklyn found his way to the after party somehow," Ella said, her voice pinched and strained. "A bunch of the guys were doing cocaine in the bathroom of this bar downtown, and my dear old brother just can't help himself."

Ella let out a sharp exhale, choking back tears before she continued. "He had a bad trip, and his nose wouldn't stop bleeding. They were afraid to call an ambulance because they all had drugs on them, so my cousin called me instead."

Brooklyn mumbled something, but it came out a jumbled incoherent mess, hanging his head between his legs.

I finally found my feet and stumbled forward, only to be stopped by Ella.