Contraindication

Thirty-Four| Desperation

"When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on."
― Abraham Lincoln

Red, all I could see was red. It mixed with the darkness of my pants to make a muddy grey colour... but I knew it was blood. I gagged as I shut my eyes. I felt cold washed over me as the blood pooled down my leg.

I could tell Mrs. Zip or Dr. whatever her name was, was staring in awe. Charles on the other hand looked perplexed yet, little bits of joy sparkled in his eyes when my fading ones finally opened to meet his.

I could have been 5 minutes, or 20? Maybe longer. But as more time painfully passed, my vision blurred and I started to feel light headed.

I was bleeding out and I wasn't going to heal. Whatever that group put in those pills worke—at for now at least.

Mr. Zip's mood swung up as her large hands adjusted her blazer, "Its a success!" She clapped her hands with excitement as she stepped closer. I didn't have the energy to move back or spit at her—I just let her do her things. She slowly used the same knife and hacked at my leg even more to make sure I wasn't healing. With ever insert my thigh burned and soon after she was satisfied, she pulled out her phone. "Charles please watch her. Mommy needs to notify everyone immediately." She smiled and briskly walked out the room, leaving Charles and I alone.

I let out a large staggered breath as my head swayed. I think I was dying? Death always came so quick for me. But it's partner, life, would always wake me up. It was a sick twisted game just like the one I was playing with every else. However, with the game my body played, at least I knew the final outcome... I don't know the final outcome of this game.

I squinted my eyes and looked at Charles who was now sitting on the desk. "I—I can't believe it." My voice was corse as my throat dried, "I'm actually going to die?" I looked down at my leg as blood squirted out, "Why is it taking so long? I thought dying of blood loss only took minutes?" I muttered under my breath. I remember reading on the internet that dying of blood loss only took about 5 minutes.

It's clearly been more?

"I wish I knew how that feels." Charles avoided my fading eyes.

I turned my head, "umm when did you find out?" I posed a question out there. At the rate I was losing blood, I was surprised I could still talk.

He faced me and narrowed his eyes, "F-find out what?"

I wanted to talk with my hands but they were tied against my back, "Find out you couldn't die?" I asked.

Charles looked down at my leg then back at me. He then turned to look out the hole in the wall, "Ever since I could remember, my mom's been scolding me and telling me about it. There wasn't a point in my life were I didn't know this about me." He spoke coldly.

I sighed, "I'm sorry to hear that. I—I hmm..." I stopped to think wether sharing about me was worth it. He didn't ask? "If you want to know about me..." I hissed as I turned my body, "The first time I vividly remember, and the first time I actually understood what was happening was when I was feeling down." My lips turned dry as I couldn't admit it. But I was already to deep in this conversation, "I—I couldn't handle my life anymore. So I tried to take it."

Charles didn't utter a word, his mouth peaked open with slight surprise.

"Then I woke up minutes later unharmed... so I tried again... and again...and again." I looked down at the cut, "After my 6th attempt I knew I couldn't die." I lowered my voice, "I also knew that if I told anyone they'd think I was crazy."

He got up from the desk and stood in front of me. "I—I didn't know that."

I looked away, "Why would you know that Charles?" I huffed, "This is the first real conversation we've had ever!" I cringed as I realized I was scaring him. So I toned down my voice, "N-no one knew. They all just assumed I was fine."