Part 1 (1/2)

811'>

Her.

Felicia Johnson.

PART 1.

Her.

By Kristen Elliott.

Her cries could be heard.

Her smiles were seen.

Couldn't be noticed.

Her ways would have been tamed By just the right hand.

To touch Her soul To heal Her mind Her heart would have desired.

The way she called out Drew them away They could ever understand.

Her tears.

Her fears.

Her pain.

Her mind held on to them.

Her hand tried to hold on.

There is a way to save Her.

CHAPTER 1.

In order to tell a story there has to be a story to tell. For Her, well, for me, there is a beginning and an end. I will start in the middle of Her story where I remember it hurting the most. I remember antic.i.p.ating my rest. It started with not being able to sleep for nights at a time. This time I wanted to make myself sleep. I wanted to sleep forever so that I would never have to hurt that much again.

Nick pulled the sheets off of me, and found me hiding. I was lying still on my back with my wrists turned up. Blood stained my sheets and ran down my arms and onto the floor. I could hear soft, mellow cries in the background.

”Is she dead? Oh, G.o.d!” His voice faded as I drifted out of consciousness.

There were many pills. There was a lot of blood. There was only one knife.

I could hear him crying for our mother. I could hear them both shouting and screaming. He was screaming my name. I was too exhausted to call out to him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. This pain was going to be over soon. Nick was crying hysterically. He wouldn't have listened to me.

I felt weak, like I had all of the weight of the whole world on me. It felt heavy at first. The paramedic lifted me up and onto the stretcher, and without any support, my head fell back. I couldn't move my head. I started to feel weightless when he laid me down on the stretcher, like I was floating in the air. It was warm and peaceful.

I didn't hear Nick's screams or the sirens anymore. I was surrounded by darkness. I knew this was the moment I had been waiting for. The pain was almost gone. I felt a big relief, took a deep breath, and let out a sigh. If I were left alone for a little longer, I might have completely fallen asleep...

There was pressure on my chest. The pressure was so hard that I could feel my heart moving without my having any control over it. Air was forcibly making its way down my throat and into my lungs. The paramedic was breathing into my mouth.

I blacked out.

I came back.

I blacked out again and was back in the dark.

The warmth filled me again. I felt still. Everything was quiet, and I could finally sleep. My mind felt like it was finally safe to let go. Soon I would not have to think about it anymore. I could have only dreamed of such a peaceful rest. A sleep of nothing. I felt one step closer to eternal peace.

Then a bright light shattered my moment of peace. I awakened with my eyes opened wide. All I saw was white.

There was a hard blow to my chest. Once again, I felt everything. I heard the cries, the screaming, and the sound of sirens.

Shapes and shadows started to form against the white backdrop, and that was when I saw a man hovering over me, sweating, panting, and pressing on my chest.

I felt myself drift off again.

The paramedic stopped pressing on my chest, and began to punch me.

My eyes opened again. I saw Nicholas, who was staring at me through wide eyes. Shocked eyes. Eyes that were probably damaged forever because of me.

When I saw his face, my heart sank. I could not move my mouth. I could not move my arms to reach out to him. I could not do anything but lose consciousness again. I had lost a lot of blood. However, that was to be expected from what I had done.

It was my fault. Nick didn't understand that. Even before all of this - all of the sirens, the chaos, the pills, the blood, the medical staff, and the events that were to come - I knew. All of those things were useless. They didn't really care for me. They didn't really care why I'd done it. They didn't even know me. If they did know me, they wouldn't have tried to save me. They would have understood and they would have let me go. They would have said that I didn't stand a chance, although they would have been wrong. I did stand a chance. It was just up to me to take that chance to save myself. I didn't feel that I needed the chance. It's not as if she would have cared, or noticed. There were things that were more important.

Maybe, I thought, that's why she didn't answer the phone...

”Doctor?” I felt a deep burn in my throat when I tried to speak.

Suddenly all of the chaos was over. I was wrapped in something white. A bright light shone into my eyes, blinding me, and the air felt cold to my almost-bare skin.

”Are you talking to me?” a sweet voice asked from overhead.

I tried to nod my head, but I was still too weak. I could barely open my eyes. The woman with the sweet voice tucked the white object over me. It was a hospital blanket, thin and white. I felt so cold.

”You shouldn't talk,” she told me. ”Try your best to just rest.”

”Please...”

”Shush now.”

She gently placed a warm finger over my lips, and then checked the IVs in my arms, as well as a big, beeping machine with wires connected to different areas of my body. Seeing all this, I felt scared. How did those wires get there? I thought to myself.

”Your doctor will see you in the morning dear. Please just try your best to get some rest. I am going to check your wrists now. I need you to hold as still as you can.”