fireproof {l.s}

chapter two

Louis

I called him four times as I drove to his house. No answer. Then, when I was about two minutes away, I decided to dial 999.

I hoped I was reading too much into this. I hoped he just kept drinking. I hoped he drove away somewhere. That that was what he meant by "goodbye".

I pulled into the driveway and raced into his house. Luckily the door was unlocked.

"Harry! Harry? Where are you?" I called into the emptiness.

No response.

Running up the stairs, I kept calling his name. I swung open his bedroom door. My eyes darted around the room until they laid upon the liquor briefcase.

"Oh god."

I kept looking until I saw the closed bathroom door. I tried the handle. Locked. I banged on the door.

"Harry, open up. I know you're in there," I yelled, pounding my fists on the door. I accepted he wasn't going to listen. I pulled on the lace of my shoe and stuck it into the lock. It clicked and I opened the door.

I froze. My jaw dropped when I scanned the room. It took everything in my power not to turn around and run out the door in shock.

Harry was sprawled out on the floor. He had long, deep slashes on both of his wrists. He still held the knife in his right hand. They spilled out blood, creating a giant pool underneath him. His head was propped against the bathtub.

I screamed.

His eyes fluttered open to the sound and I could see how bloodshot they were. He didn't say anything. He just stared at me. I ran over to him, ripping my shirt off. I grabbed his wrists and wrapped it around them, but the blood kept gushing out. I could hear sirens in the distance. My eyes landed on the hand towel and I reached over to grab it, hoping that could help stop the bleeding. Then, I looked at Harry's face. His eyes were partly open as a few tears still dripped from them. Next thing I knew, his eyes were rolling back in his head and his eyelids slowly started to close.

"No.. No, no Harry. Stay with me okay? The paramedics are almost here. You're gonna be okay. Please, oh my god, open your eyes. Just stay. Stay," I stammered as I desperately tried to stop the bleeding while keeping him awake. It seemed that both my efforts went to hell because Harry's eyes closed, and they didn't open again.

"Shit, shit." It was then that I heard footsteps on the first floor of the house.

"Hello? Hello? Is anybody here?" A voice called.

"Up here! Please, hurry. He- he's bleeding!" I called back.

A couple seconds later, a man and a woman ran into the room. "Ok, ok, I got him," the woman said. I moved away from Harry as the two paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher and carried him out of the room. I followed after them. I just realized that I was crying when another voice tried to calm me down.

"Hey man, stop, we need you to tell us what happened so we can help him," he said softly.

I stared at him. What did happen?

"I don't know. I don't know. He cut his wrists...and... fell and then I walked in," I struggled to talk. I could barely even breathe.

"Anything else?" he asked.

I couldn't think straight. But then I remembered that he also drank a ton of liquor. "Oh, uh, yeah, he was drinking, alot."

Soon, all the police and paramedics left the house. I looked through the door and I could see them loading Harry's stretcher into the ambulance. I ran up to it and asked if I could ride with him to the hospital. One of the men nodded and I climbed in, still sobbing.