“I want you to write in this. Write down questions, concerns, wants. Anything. Random stuff. Someone will be happy to answer you. I need more than yes and no answers. To help you get better, we need to be able to have a way to communicate. Can you at least do that for me?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t going to promise anything.
“Tell me one thing you want, okay? By tomorrow afternoon, I want to know one thing you want. A question answered, a certain food, anything. I want to get to know you, nipotina. That’s what we all want.”
With another squeeze of my hand, he made his leave. I closed my eyes, having no wants I’d be able to write down.
Ibarely made it the bathroom before whatever I had in me came up without much warning. The constant nausea today was getting on my nerves, along with many other things. I wanted to be left alone, but it seemed like someone was constantly checking on me.
I didn’t want Collin to know I wasn’t handling anything, least of all today. I didn’t want that stupid feeding tube in again. I blamed today’s episode on whatever Collin had pushed into my body.
Flushing the toilet, I stood, willing the wave of dizziness to leave. Once it did, I stripped and turned on the shower. At least I was able to take one on my own now without the help of Esprana.
Once the water was warm enough, I stepped in and let it cover me. The stream helped ease my muscles. I stood there for minutes, lost in thought.
Seeing the razor on the ledge, I reached for it. I twisted it around and around. Could I really do it?
Breaking the plastic around the razor blades was a bit more challenging than I’d expected. After using a shampoo bottle to smash it, I pulled one of the razors free. It glistened in the light.
Not putting too much thought into what I was about to do, I pressed the blade against my left arm and pushed down. I hissed in pain as the air hit my blood. The pain didn’t stop me, though. It egged me on. I pressed deeper, then quickly across, making a jagged cut.
As my blood flowed, I collapsed to the shower floor. The red liquid swirled down the drain with the water. My eyes slid closed, but I quickly forced them opened as I shakily grabbed the razor in my other hand. It fell twice before I could get a good grip one it. As I pressed it into my right wrist, the shower door flew open.
“Scarlett!”
My eyes slid closed on their own as I was quickly lifted out of the shower and sat down on the mat. Someone was shouting. Someone was putting pressure on my wrist to stop the bleeding. And I was letting death call me home.
Since I’d been kidnapped by a family that claimed to want to help me, time held no meaning. I had no idea how many days had passed. No one was letting me fucking die. That was the only thing I wanted.
I wanted no more pain. No more feeling. No nothing. I wanted to be free of everything I couldn’t deal with.
Instead, I could feel the cuts throb in tune with my heartbeat. I could feel something cold being pumped into my body.
“Peyton, come eat something,” someone called.
“I’m not leaving her,” he said, his voice muffled. I think it was him who’d squeezed my hand. “I can’t. I can’t lose her again.”
“Then I’ll send someone up here with food, but you have to eat. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours, son.”
“I’ll keep watch,” Dominic said.
“Over my dead body,” Peyton hissed.
“Knock it off, both of you,” Ace demanded. “If you can’t get along, you’ll both be out.”
I moaned as I tried to roll over. One hand seemed to be held onto tightly and the other burned when I even thought about moving it.
I turned my head into the pillow, trying to smother a sob as it broke free. Whoever was in the room jumped, startled before yelling to someone. I couldn’t stop the tears now that they’d started, and there seemed to be no end in sight.
“It’s okay,” Peyton said, tears in his own voice. He petted my hair, talking quietly as my sobs wracked my body. Each move made me cry harder as the pain pinched my arm. “Please, Scarlett.”
Please what? I couldn’t help feeling so lost in my own mind. I couldn’t help wanting to die. I…I just couldn’t.
“Please, Collin, give her something,” Peyton begged. He didn’t stop moving his fingers through my hair. For some reason, his gentle touch was slowly helping me as I tried to stop the crying. But I just couldn’t. It was an all-consuming sadness.
“I can’t,” Collin said sadly. “Any more and…” He trailed off.
“And what?” Peyton hissed. “She’s in pain.”
