Page 19 of Burn Like An Angel
“Rip? Are you listening?”
My mouth opens.
Shuts.
Nothing comes out.
I hear Raine sigh. “Alright, loud and clear. I’ll go.”
Chest spasming, an invisible fist tightens around my bloodstained clothing and seems to drag me towards the mirror. Closer. Closer. I’m spiralling back into the numbness, the detachment. Staring at a girl I don’t even recognise.
No. I can’t let myself fall into that dark, downward spiral. There will be no way back up. My mind is too fractured and exhausted to protect itself right now—I have to hold it together.
“Wait,” I force out.
“Yeah?”
“P-Please…” My voice catches.
“Tell me what you need, Rip.”
Head lowering, I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Please don’t leave me.”
The door clicks open and shut. I hate being vulnerable. Weak. Dependent on others. It goes against everything I’ve worked so hard to build here.
Hurried footsteps approach, then hands find my shoulders. Raine searches me with his hands, banding his arms around my torso from behind in a tight embrace. A sudden, unwelcome sob tears at my chest.
“Never, guava girl,” he murmurs. “Let yourself fall apart for once. You’re safe with me.”
Behind my closed lids, all I can see is blood. Slicked across the corridor in the Z wing, evidence from a dragged body. The gore spilling from Craven’s broken skull. More blood spraying from the drill tearing into Lennox’s hand. My own blood seeping from my wrists.
“Raine,” I whimper.
“Shh, babe. I’m here.”
“N-No… We’re not safe! None of us!”
“Breathe, Rip. Come on.”
One hand splayed over my belly, he raises the other to rub my arm in slow, comforting circles. His face is buried in the nape of my neck. Each time he exhales, I feel his breath tickle my skin. It feels warm and comforting.
Heart pumping.
Lungs expanding.
Tense muscles loosening.
Each small detail offers me something to focus on. It’s a trick an old therapist suggested years back when I was first diagnosed. I haven’t struggled to scrape myself together like this for a long time.
“That’s it. Focus on me.”
“You nearly d-died from the overdose.” The air escapes my lungs like a popped balloon. “And for what? We’re going to die here anyway.”
“I just fancied a little getaway to the medical wing,” he jokes quietly. “You get to stay in bed all day, you know? They even bring you food. It’s like an all-inclusive resort.”
Another choked sob breaks out of me. “Seriously?”
