Brent too.
Raul will help.
She just needs to rest.
I can hear the voices around me, but I’m not ready for it to be real. Facing reality means facing that my best friend is missing half her skull. It means I am covered in her blood. Raul lost his wife. I lost the only real friend I’ve ever known.
“She’s in shock or something. She said she was sleeping,” I hear Reggie say behind me. I am humming and rocking Fiona, praying this is a dream.
“Alania,” Raul says, kneeling in front of me.
“You can’t wake her yet,” I whimper.
“I won’t. I do need to see her, though,” Raul says softly. “Can I see her?”
“Yeah,” I sniff. I loosen my grip to let her lie across my lap. Raul chokes on tears and cups the side of her face that isn’t mangled. “I’m sorry…”
“Alania, look at me,” Brent says, lifting my chin to look at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, and I can tell he’s been crying. Raul scoops Fiona out of my lap, and Brent stands and does the same with me.
“I killed her,” I whisper as I snuggle against his chest.
“No, baby. You didn’t kill her,” Brent says as he carries me. When he sits and I hear the sobs coming from Raul, I can feel my heart break all over again.
Two Days Later
I am curled up on the bed, praying that somehow my very full bladder stops hurting. I’ve been avoiding getting up for a while now, but I don’t want to lay in my own piss. I haven’t left this room since Brent laid me down after they washed Fiona’s blood off me. I haven’t spoken, eaten, or looked at the guys.
There is always one of them with me, and right now it’s Raul. Why he wants to be anywhere near me right now is beyond me. I killed his wife. My best friend. Why didn’t I just say yes? If I had said yes to him so many times, why didn’t I just shut up and do what he told me to do? Fiona would be alive, and no one would be mourning.
“Alania, go to the bathroom,” Raul says as he leans down and kisses my cheek. I shove him away and get off the bed. It’s easier if I keep everyone at a distance because no one can get hurt. Really, I should just leave.
Would I get away? Would they be mad? Why would they? Fiona is dead, and now they’re stuck with me. Of course, they wouldn't care. It’s freedom and closure all in one.
I go to the bathroom and lock myself in. I could cry at the relief I feel when I finally pee. When I am done, I wash my hands. Before I leave, though, my eye catches a straight razor sitting next to the shaving cream. None of the guys shaves their faces, so I know it’s been here for a while. Although maybe it’s for cleaning up the edges. They are always so presentable.
I’m still staring at it.
Why?
I should walk away.
But I could also end it all right here.
Right now.
Two deep cuts from my inner wrist to the bend of my arm, and I’m done. It’s all over, and they can move on. I pick it up and imagine what it would be like to slice myself open. I have before, but not with intention. I fold the blade open and grip the handle, wanting to bleed. I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted anything this badly before.
“Alania,” Raul says carefully from behind me.
“Go away,” I say flatly.
“I can’t do that, sweetheart. Give me the blade,” he says, stepping closer.
“Touch me and you’ll have two funerals to attend,” I growl.
“Alania, don’t make me do this, baby,” he says as he creeps closer. When he reaches out for me, I get as far as a few inches from my arm before he grabs my wrists, sending me into a spiral of emotion.
“Get off of me!” I scream.
