|
Full of Grace: Chapter 19
I made the mistake of shaking my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. My
brain felt like it was going to leak out of my ear. I moaned a little from
the wooziness.
"Well well, someone decided to wake up."
I stiffened at the tone of her voice. She sounded so cold. I looked up to
see her standing there, a silver object held in her fingers. Oh shit. Razor
Blade. I felt the blood drain from my face as I watched the metal glint in
the light.
"What's wrong Kevin, not happy to see me?"
I clamped my lips shut, I knew I was fucked. There was no other way to
describe it. Her eyes seemed so empty, so devoid of any human emotion. I
knew if I said a word that her fist, or worse, what she had in her hand
would come hurtling at me and I couldn't take it. I already hurt so bad.
"Answer me Kevin."
I looked at her, trying not to let the disgust shine through. "No."
She raised an eyebrow, "No what?"
I looked her straight in the eye, If I was going to go down, I was going to
go fighting. "No, I am not happy to see you."
Her facial muscles tightened and before I knew what was happening, her leg
shot up and delivered a devastating kick to my solar plexus. I bit back the
groan that was crying to get out, determined not to show her any reaction to
her abuse.
"Wrong answer Kevin."
I refused to look at her, instead staring at the wall ahead of me. She took
my chin in her hand and wrenched my head back to face her, "Look at me!"
I stared her down, "Fine, I'm looking. Happy?"
A cruel smile tightened her lips, "Yes. I wanted to look in your eyes. To
see the pain." With those words, her arm shot up and then down quickly,
slicing the razorblade through my arm.
For a second, the shock was there to numb the pain. But then the shock wore
off and my arm was on fire. As much as I wanted not to react, I couldn't
help it. My mouth opened as I screamed bloody murder. Bloody murder,
ironic choice of phrase, since this was exactly what it was turning out to
be. I struggled against the ties binding me to the shower rod, feeling the
warm thickness of my blood sheeting down my arm and dripping onto the tile
floor.
Stefanie looked at me, truly smiling. She seemed happy. Genuinely happy.
"Oooh, that was fun! I want to do it again! Lucky for me you have another
wrist!" Before I could say a word in protest, the razor ripped into my
other arm, bringing another scream from me.
She watched as the blood ran in streams down my arms, falling to the floor.
Some of my blood had sprayed on her face, but she didn't seem to notice.
She just stood there, fascinated at the blood flowing from my arms. She
lifted her hands and looked at the blood on them and turned around, walking
to the sink, washing them off like it was mud or paint or something else
benign like that. She washed her face, brushed her hair and then turned
around and walked out of the room like nothing happened.
I screamed after her, "Stefanie! Stefanie, get me down! My god, I'm going
to bleed to death! For the love of God, please!"
Silence. My head fell forward on to my chest. I'm going to die like this.
Naked, tied to a shower rod, standing in my own blood.
Stefanie came back into the doorway that lead to the bedroom, her purse in
hand.
I looked at her, "Where are you going?! Let me down Stefanie, please. Let
me down."
She smiled, "I'm going out shopping. I'll be back in a while. Miss me while
I'm gone." She came over to me, kissing me on the cheek and then walked
away.
My mouth fell open. I'm standing here bleeding to death by her hand and
she's going SHOPPING??!!!
A minute later, I heard the door close and knew that this was it. I was
going to die. All I could do was stand there and wait as the life slowly
drained out of me and down my arms. I sighed as I felt lightheaded, it was
the beginning of the end. Maybe it would be quick.
From somewhere deep inside, my will to live kicked in. The side of me that
said 'The hell if I'm going out like that!' I frantically looked around and
saw the tub behind me. Of course, why hadn't I realized that before. I
stepped backwards onto the edge of the tub and used my tingling hands to
steady myself as boosted myself up so I was standing on the edge of the tub.
My head was brushing the ceiling and I had enough slack with my arms to
maneuver my hands to the knots keeping me prisoner. Slowly, so
painstakingly slowly, I worked my fingers to release the knots that held me.
My vision was starting to blur, my knees shaking. I knew that I had to work
more quickly, or I would die here.
Finally, with a tug, the last knot fell away. My knees wobbled and I fell
back into the tub, stunning me. I laid there for a second, gaining my
breath back and sat up, scrambling out of the tub, slithering over the side
and landing in the pool of blood on the floor.
The door to the bathroom looked like an impossible goal, the phone beside
the bed, absolutely unattainable. I gathered what little strength I had
left and raised my self to my knees and elbows. I couldn't bend my hands
now at all, so they were useless in supporting me. Slowly, I lifted myself
till I was on my knees and threw my upper body forward, digging my elbows
into the tile as I walked my knees forward. Balancing was tricky, I worked
out a system of walking my elbows forward until I was almost lying flat and
then walked my knees up to meet my elbows only to do it over again. I had
to keep stopping, my head was spinning and a few times as I lifted one elbow
or one knee, I crashed over on my side. As I lay on my side, I felt like
giving up. Like what was the sense, even if I did get to the phone, I would
bleed to death before anyone got here. But something inside me wouldn't let
me give up. "Oh, God, don't let me die." I managed to get back onto my
knees and elbows and cleared the door to the bedroom.
Only a little further. "Please God. Help me." My arms didn't seem to want
to move anymore, but I gritted my teeth and forced them to move, no matter
how painful it was. Inch by inch I crept closer and closer to my goal.
What seemed like forever later, I had reached the bed, the phone cord
dangling in front of me like the finish line. I took it into my teeth and
threw my body backwards, yanking the phone off the table and onto the floor.
I crawled over to it and laid down beside it, too weak to stay up any more.
Nick. That was the only thought in my mind. He would help me. His was the
only number I had been able to program into my phone. I lifted my weary
head and grabbed the cord to the receiver, pulling it closer to me. I found
the button for the speed dial and I knew my arms were useless, so I jabbed
the button with my nose. It connected and I heard it ringing. "Please
Nick, be home. Pick up the phone." When he
answered I choked back sobs, "Nick, help me. I'm dying."
Then it all became too much and my head swirled and swam before I dropped to
the carpet and everything went black.
|
||