On The Edge

Prolouge

Started: January 2015
Resumed: June 2015

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"It wasn't my fault." my voice wavers slightly as I try to hold back the fear in my voice.

"You should've warned them! You should've said something!" my brother screams at me, gripping a knife in his hand as he approached me.

"Eric, you need to stop before you regret-"

"Don't even think about telling me what to do!" he shouts, walking forwards.

I scoot back on the floor until my back hits the brick wall of the inside of our old apartment. It's dim and dank, setting off an eerie and miserable air. I wish I could just go on the run, steal stuff to survive; it would be much easier than trying to scavenge any food here; it was mostly just wines and alcohol.

Eric steps forward to kick me in the gut, but I block his foot with my forearm. He clenches his teeth in aggravation and kicks again, hitting the wall as I dive to the side. He stomps his foot onto my stomach to hold me down.

"Block it one more time, and this knife will be the last thing you see." Eric growls.

I know he won't kill me instantly; he needs a punching bag to take his anger out on when he's drunk and angry (which is most of the time). But I don't want to have a rusty dagger stabbed into me; that wouldn't feel too good.

Eric pulls his foot away and kicks me hard in gut, causing me to curl in a ball, groaning in pain. He kicks me again in the thigh, which doesn't hurt much since I have the most muscular thighs known to man.

A siren sounds outside the door at the end of the damp hallway. A look of fear and frustration passes over Eric's features. I take the advantage of the distraction and swing my feet against his ankles, sweeping him off his feet. He lands on the ground with an uncontrolled thud. I jump to my feet and sprint towards the dark wooden door at the end of the hall. Just as my hand touches the brass doorknob, a searing pain rakes across the top of my shoulder. I grit my teeth together to hold back a scream of pain, squeezing my eyes shut so hard, I see white spots flash against my eyelids.

Near my eyes, is a knife lodged in the wood of the door; its blade half way in my skin. I'm able to get it out of my shoulder by squatting down quickly to pull it out, making me bite my lip to substitute the pain. I yank open the creaky door and stumble out into the siren-filled night. Police cars-- about 7 or 8-- are parked along the driveway and the curb of the road; their blue and red lights are flashing everywhere, the colors dancing across the walls of the apartment complexes and trees. Several police men scoot past me and into our-- I mean, my brother's-- apartment. I can hear his cries of protest and his curses. Two police come up and grab my forearms, leading me to the ambulance.

"I'm fine." I say, trying to shake them off.

The police man shakes his head. "That's a nasty cut you got there. We'll have to fix that up."

They make me sit down on the stretcher, even though I insist I'm fine, and lift it into the ambulance. The nurse inside the vehicle smiles softly at me as she puts a blood pressure wrap around my forearm, and grabs a bandage to wrap around my shoulder.

"I'll need you to take off your shirt." she says, more as a concerned statement.

"Do I really have to?" I question, sighing in irritation.

"Yes, it's the only way I can wrap the bandage quickly and stop the bleeding." the nurse explains, gesturing to my dirty white t-shirt.

"Alright." I grumble, swinging it off swiftly, so my bra is visible. Great.

The nurse starts to disinfect my cut, causing me to cringe and shudder as the alcohol burns the bloody wound.

"At least it's not too deep." the nurse breaks the silence, trying to lift my spirits.

I don't answer and just stare out the ambulance truck's back windows. I spot Eric being wrestled out of the house. His eyes sweep the area and he spots me in the truck. He grins menacingly and mouths four words: I will find you.

My hand ends up having a mind of its own, and gives Eric the middle finger through the window. I can feel the frown of the nurse's disapproval, but I ignore her. She finishes wrapping the bandage and she sits in her chair as the truck pulls out of the area and to the hospital, I'm guessing.

"Where am I going after this?" I ask, swinging my feet back and forth as I sit.

The nurse looks up at me with a sad smile, fiddling nervously with her fingers. "Most likely an orphanage, dear."

My hopes of escaping my terrible life dissolves; it's only been replaced.

I sit up instantly in my bed, my breathing quick. My right shoulder throbs slightly, the dream triggering the pain I had felt then. I wipe the little sweat from my forehead with my fingertips. The room is silent and dark, just like it should be; except it had the same feeling it always had after a dream: dead. I sigh and swing my legs out of the itchy sheets, the pads of my feet touching the cold floor lightly as I stand. I walk silently to the single window in my lonely, gray room and stare out of it, my chin resting in my hand as I lean my elbow on the window sill. The moon is full and turns the trees surrounding the orphanage to a silver-coated green. The stars are like sparkles against a black blanket, causing my inner thoughts to whir out of control.

I will find you. Most likely an orphanage, dear. There's no hope left. Fake it till you make it. Your tougher than anyone; don't waste your strength. It's all your fault.

"It's all my fault..." I whisper, but then shake my head.

It's not your fault, I think to myself. There was nothing you could do.

I rake my hands through my brown and blonde-streaked hair miserably.

"I better not be stuck in this hole forever." I glare at the moon, pointing at it with my forefinger.

I walk back to my bed and slide under the covers. Eric's face pops into my head again, and I steel myself against my emotions. I block him out and close my eyes, drifting restlessly into a deep sleep.

I will find you.