Melting Ice

Chapter 36

Cato

Back at work the next morning, Clove is all I think about. I feel like the parent of a cutting daughter, always looking out for her. She said she would stop and if she didn't, I would get her a councillor; which Clove didn't want. My mind drifts back to the warmness of the body tightly pressed up against mine as she sobs softly into my bare chest, her sweet smelling hair sticking to her, what was, glowing skin. Her eyes shine like a million diamonds when they are open and when she cries, diamonds fall from them. Salty drops of pain and shame.
"Take a break mate", someone says, clapping me on the back, "Your having a rough time". My hands sting from holding the sword to long, so much I see blood. Blood like Cloves. Carefully, I undo the lip of my bottle and quickly gulp the water down me before reaching for my phone.
I call Clove. It goes to voice mail.
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"Hey beautiful, it's Cato. Just wanted to say that I think your wonderful and I'm so proud of you. Have a lovely day at work! I love you lots Clovers".
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I think of her smile, with her perfectly straight teeth, her cold lips. The way she plays with her fingers when she is nervous or scared.
For the rest of me shift, I'm out and about. Patrolling part of our district; which is alright. The thought uniform makes my muscles bulge slightly as I flex when standing up straight, proud. I walk past trees, rows and rows of them. All perfectly lined up, each one in the exact right place. Nothing seems odd, nothing at all. I try to carry on walking with my head held high but I can sense danger. Maybe not physical, more verbal. Like something bad is going to happen. But what could it be? Maybe I'm just overreacting.
Clove. Clove. Clove. The love of my life. My beautiful princess. What is she doing to herself? My only hope is that she sees sense and stops. Stops with the abuse to herself. She, of all people, don't deserve this. No one does, especially not my Clove. Not after everything that has happened.
My phone vibrates and plays out a melodic tune. The caller ID reads, 'Clove Kentwell'. I tap the green phone gently.
"Hello?", I say down the line.
"Come home", she says. Clove sounds like she is crying.
"What's wrong?", I desperately ask.
"I'm cutting again and need you", Clove cries. No, no no!
"I'm coming baby, stay still and breath". I hang up shakily and run to my college quickly.
"I have a family problem. Cover for me?", I say.
"Sure thing buddy".
My legs ache by the time I reach the door and my breathing is heavy but I don't care. Please someone, anyone out there, help me.
She lies there, collapsed on the floor, blood dripping out of her, I feel helpless. I feel sick, ashamed. Not of her, but myself; for not staying with her like a good boyfriend. And now she is dying on me, every stupid second I let past, her heart is slowing from lack of blood. The hospital is luckily a few minutes walk from here; I should be able to run.
I gently pick Clove up, checking her breathing and sprint as if my life depended on it.