Filed under: writing
I had grown tired of her antics, the wrist cutting and the pill taking. There were only so many times I could sit aside her in the ambulance as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Last week had been the final straw when I returned from work and found her cradling a bottle of bleach on the bathroom floor. Three hours of persuasion and reassurance it had taken me to convince her that it was okay to pass me the bottle. Three long hours. We slept on the bathroom floor that night. To anyone else, I must seem cold-hearted and unfazed by all this. But after years of the same mood swings and ‘bad days’, suicide attempts and counselling sessions, you just learn to deal with it. You wouldn’t understand though. See, no one does. Not the doctors, or the paramedics, the counsellors, or therapists. Not even her parents or friends. No one. I do love her, I do, don’t get me wrong. The girl I met on the number nine bus is still in there, somewhere. But if she was going to continue with these cries for help, then help was what she needed. I was at breaking point.
When I’d told her over dinner that evening that I’d run out of options, and in the morning, I’d be taking her back to the hospital, she’d flipped. The meal I’d lovingly prepared was launched at the wall, plate and all. Spaghetti and sauce edged towards the carpet threatening to leave a bright orange stain. I refrained from the urge to rush to the kitchen to fetch a cloth, knowing it would only upset her more.
“You’re supposed to love me!” She screeched as she swept her glass of water to the floor.
“What do you mean you’re tired?” She spat as she picked up her fork and pressed it into her wrist.
“Exactly this, Rebecca.” I gestured towards the fork at her wrists and began to pick the pieces of broken china from the floor.
“You hold me to emotional ransom every time you have a ‘bad day’. I need a break. You think I don’t get upset too?”
“You need a break?” She hissed. I bet the neighbours were loving this, I mused.
“If you loved me as much as you say you do..” she began to raise the fork away from her wrist.
And that’s when I snapped.
“That’s just it! I don’t. I don’t love this side of you at all. I lost the side I loved when you lost our baby.”
As soon as I’d said it, I’d wanted to retract that statement, but it was too late. She fled from the dining room and out onto the street. Fuck. I’d clenched my fist too tight whilst holding the shards of the dinner plate and ribbons of crimson crept out from between my knuckles. I couldn’t drive with a bloody hand, so I moved to the kitchen to bandage it before grabbing my car keys from the drawer and headed out after Rebecca. My hand was stinging and all my thoughts kept drifting back to the mass of cold spaghetti that was currently congealing on my carpet. And as I searched each side of the high street for her, I noticed a small crowd gathered outside the library, looking towards the sky.
“For fucks sake..” I muttered under my breath, as I slammed the car door. Yep, that was Becky alright, stood atop the tall public building. I could just make out her fiery red hair. Storming into the library, I raced up the three flights of stairs, unaware of the librarians on the phone to the authorities already. She’d be sectioned for sure, after this stunt. I burst through the door to the roof, why in God’s name was it unlocked? Surely they would have accounted for suicide attempts and kept it securely bolted – if not welded, shut. Why did the library need access to the roof anyway? They dealt in books! However, now was not the time for those questions, as Rebecca was slowly making her way towards the edge.
“Don’t jump.” A voice from below now echoed up to us. “For your sake, and all the bystanders. We can help you.”
I was right. The people with the loudhailers had arrived, just like they would’ve done in the movies. Loudhailers and a crowd, people trying to offer advice, and reasons to live. Finally, Rebecca broke the silence.
“I didn’t think I’d actually do it, you know James.” She crouched and peered over the edge slightly. My heart lurched and for a second, I thought she’d tumble forward.
“I just can’t go on like this anymore.” Turning to look at me, her mascara had bled yet she was smiling ever so slightly. She stood again and took a deep breath. Why don’t you come away from the edge? I said gently. She told me she just wanted to stand for a while, being so close to the sky made her feel peaceful for once in her life.
I took a step closer, my heart was beginning to race now. Out of all the stupid things she’d done, this topped them. I took a deep breath. I hated heights.
“Becks.. please.. You’ll fall.” I ventured, reaching my hand towards her for her to take.
“It’s flying, silly.” She took a final step forward. “Not falling.”
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