Streets of Gold
"You're way too young to fall apart...
I was still laying on my bed sobbing, holding my right arm as tight as I could so the bleeding would stop.
My face was stained with tears and the usual black eyeliner I wear was running down as well. I felt horrible. Tattered. Torn. Smashed.
My head pounded as I sat up, still clutching my upper right arm. I looked over at the mirror across my room, seeing the fist-sized bruise that now made up my entire left cheek. I then looked down under my hand, on my arm. The same, deep, long wound was dragged into my skin. Just enough I could faintly see the muscle of my bicep. I hate my life. So fucking much. Why didn't he just get it over with and kill me? No. Instead, he makes me suffer. That stupid lying bitch makes me suffer like... Like... Like a kicked kitten.
Actually, I was kicked. Not a kitten, but I was kicked. My right side actually was pulsing and cringing itself with pain, along my ribcage. How did I not see this in Tom? I knew he was this kind of person. I knew it. I always seem to get caught up with the wrong people.
But never like this.
I stood up, almost falling back down, and limped into my bathroom. I fell over the sink, to what I could get a hold of. I turned my head slowly and shakily up towards the mirror to look my beaten self in the face. My right cheek, up closer, was more red and black then it was purple and blue. A mess of colours. My hair was everywhere, but I didn't give a shit about that. My arm looked worse then it had less then a minute or so ago. I pulled my sleeve up more so I could get a better look at it. Was weak, so keeping myself standing was difficult. I peered down at my arm and saw something in my skin. Fucking bastard. I reached over with my shaky left hand and moved whatever it was slightly, I screamed and lost myself over the sink again.
I had to gather up enough of my own non-existent strength to do this.
I pushed myself back up and reached my hand over again. I grabbed it, lightly, with my pointer finger and thumb. I tried to slide it out without killing myself with pain. Fuck it. I pulled it out as fast as I could and screamed, blood-curdling, terrified, loosing myself once again.
I slipped down from the sink and lay on the barren white tile floor, whatever I just pulled out of my arm still in my left hand. I looked over and cringed. A razor? How the hell did a razor get in my arm? I knew I got thrown around and beaten, but a razor blade? Jesus fucking Christ what did I get myself into.
I curled up, right there on the floor. I didn't want to look at myself. I just wanted to die. That's it, I should just lay here and bleed to death. Yeah... That's what I'll do.
I smiled slightly through my tears and pain. The end was near, but why am I still standing here?
My mind all of a sudden started racing with thoughts of everything I could have pop into my mind right now. Fuck... What if I did die? How long would I lay here, before anyone found me? Would I just be here forever? Or would someone sure and come find me, if they noticed I was missing? Would I just lay here and rot? Oh God... Probably. I wouldn't be found. I'd just lay on the floor here until the end of time. Tom probably is out having a good time right now, I bet. Happy that he ruined the only person who ever saw anything in him. Happy that he ruined the only person who ever saw anything in me. Happy that he ruined my life.
Happy that he probably committed first degree murder and wont be caught for it.
Shit. Shit. SHIT. What if he does this to everyone he's ever loves, or liked? Dammit! I got myself met up with a murderer... God mother fucking dammit! Why? Why doesn't this happen to someone else? I'm stupid. God, I'm so fucking stupid.
I gathered up enough energy after a while and dragged myself out of the bathroom I'd been laying in. I lied on the carpet, instead. I wasn't crying anymore, just shocked and in pain. So much fucking pain.
"Into the dark, back to the blue...
I sat myself up and wiped my face with my left hand. I looked at it, then. Blood-stained from the gash on my right arm. Fuck my life, I though, standing myself up while taking a tight hold of the wall and door threshold that lead out into the hallway. I was still weak as shit, but I could manage.
All of a sudden, someone was pounding at the door. I stared forwards, waiting for them to yell something.
"Hey in there! they shouted after they pounded on the metal door once or twice more. "Are you okay?
I wasn't able to make noise, I tried speaking but couldn't. Instead, I fell forward and dragged myself across the apartment with my left arm and pushed myself with my legs. Struggling like a run over dog, I thought.
I finally made my way to the front door and reached up to the knob, slamming a grip onto it. I twisted it weakly and pulled the door open a bit.
A man, a little on the stocky side, looked down at me, then making a surprised expression. I just lied there.
"Oh.. My God! What happened? I heard you screaming... he bent down and lifted my head up, so I was looking at him. I did, looked right at him, his dark green eyes stared back at me in amazement. "Hello? Uhm... he lifted me up and carried me inside my own apartment, not caring about closing the door. I was limp and so weak I could barely move.
He walked over to the slightly larger couch and lied me on it, sitting next to me on the floor.
"What's your name? he put a hand on my forehead and moved my messy hair out of my face. I looked over at him weakly and didn't open my mouth to speak, since I couldn't. He looked at me still. "Cant you say something? Uhm... he sounded as worried as a mother for her child. I shook my head slightly, looking away and shutting my eyes. His forehead creased with a line from him frowning, worried as ever for some reason. "Hey... he said. "Don't die on me here, try to cooperate... he got up and quickly pulled a small towel out of my kitchen, sitting me up. He took light hold of my right arm, slipping my sleeve up and tying the towel tightly around my wound. I cringed slightly, dropping my head down. He got another towel and started wiping the blood off of me, from my face to my left arm and hand.
"Now, he said, setting the blood-covered towel over his shoulder. "Try and say something. Anything, please. I wanna know who you are. his voice was as soft and quiet as ever, he looked at me with those green eyes. Mysteriously, I wanted to know the story behind those pretty eyes.
I looked at him. "Bill... I said, quieter then a whisper. "You're Bill? Your name is Bill? I nodded, turning my head back down. "Okay... he slipped my shirt off and started wiping the rest of the blood off of me. My chest and stomach, it was everywhere. I didn't mind him doing this, though. Was nice of him. Really.
"What happened? Who did this to you? the guy said after he had put the towel over his shoulder again, looking at me once more. I shook my head. "Nobody...
"Are you sure?
I choked out the word like it was water coming out of my lungs. I still felt horrible, it was hard to breathe because of how many times I was kicked and punched in the chest and ribs. "Okay... he pushed me back down onto the couch so I was laying again. "Don't move... Just rest. You're beaten.. Bad. It's best if you just stay still for a little, okay? I'll take care of you, don't worry. he got up and went into the kitchen, seeming to know what to do instantaneously. I closed my eyes and exhaled sharply, wishing I had just died in my bathroom. Wishing this guy hadn't heard me screaming in pain.
Hell, I would have been better dead anyway, right? I'm not that great of a person. Nobody would have missed me.
The guy came back out of the kitchen and handed me two pill capsules, he was holding a glass of water. "Can you swallow? You need to take these... I sat me back up and I nodded slightly, taking the glass of water and swallowing both the pills, then drinking the water.
"Thank you... I said quietly, giving him the glass of water back. He nodded once in reply, setting the cup on the table behind him.
"Are you sure you don't want to tell me who did it? I could tell the police... he put his hand on my left arm, looking at me with those eyes again.
You, it seemed his eyes were telling me. You.
"I'm... I'm positive.. I choked out once more. "But thank you...
"It's nothing, Bill.
Dear God... Who was he? Why did he come here to help me? Yeah, I had screamed pretty loud, and I'm sure the whole building heard me, but was he the one who lived next door to me? The guy in 484 who plays what sounds like guitar all the time... The one with the sleek brown hair and well-built stature that I barely saw but once or twice. So this was him, huh? Well... Not a bad guy to be living there.