Sunday…
Jesus! I cry sharply as the pain shoots through my hand. Who knew such a cut could cause a great deal of pain. I release a string of curses as a new pain surges through me when I attempt to move my hand once more. I have to admit that I cannot handle this. The slightest of movement brought tears to my eyes, yet I felt numb
“Are you alright?” A voice asks startling me into jerking from my newly acquired position. I quickly hold my tongue from uttering more profanities.
“Who the hell are you?” I snare taking in the very tall stranger standing by my bedroom door with you behind him. His height overshadowed yours.
“You don’t remember? What is your last memory?” The stranger asks with concern as he moves further into the room.
My eyes search his face. The features are familiar, yet not very familiar. I seek my mind as a need to place the face consumes me. A memory sparks. I close my eyes as more memories spill forth with yesterday’s events take priority.
Red. There was a lot of red. Blood spilled from my veins. The color was rich, attractive, and beautiful. I had watched with interest as the blood formed patterns, running down my arm before leaking to the floor.
The chocking sound reminded me of your presence. The look on your face was priceless. Your eyes followed the trail of my blood with disbelief. It was at that moment that I realized that slitting my wrist in front of you was not the smartest of ideas, especially after you released a hair-raising scream that shook the building.
The scream worked in your favor as it brought a good Samaritan to my house. I’ve always thought it funny how there is always a person somewhere rushing to a stranger’s aid. It was as if such designated heroes lurked nearby waiting to save a body if not a soul. With the Samaritan in the house, everything accelerated. Someone wrapped a cloth around my wrist to stop the blood that was flowing freely.
Both of you proceeded to hustle me to some clinic where a nurse cleaned the cut, applied Betadine antiseptic, slapped on a bandage and prescribed painkillers. The Samaritan took his newly acquired title seriously for he insisted on taking us home and sticking through the night with you.
“What is your last memory,” The Samaritan’s voice repeated dragging me away from my musing.
I open my eyes and try not to frown as I see you both hovering around me. Shit! Last night’s unfortunate accident has cost me pain and earned me two stifling baby-sitters. I suddenly wished I had completely bled out. That would have worked had I done the deed while alone.
“How many times are you going to ask me that?” I snap back. The Samaritan’s questions centered around my memory every time I woke from sleep. I wondered if he expected me to lose my marbles. I would not blame that line of thinking since I at times wondered if I still had my sanity.
I slightly contemplate feigning amnesia but quickly abandoned the thought. With amnesia, the Samaritan would see it his duty to help my misfortune. He would designate himself my constant companion, something I did not need.
I make an effort not to groan loudly as the Samaritan smiles at my disposition. It dawns on me that he is one of those annoying people who were always cheery no matter the circumstance. With his best smile, he asks how I am feeling.
“Could I have a glass of water?” I ask instead. Somehow, I knew that telling him how crappy I felt was not going to help either of us since he would keep his smile and be cheery about it, while I would still feel like killing him.
I watch his retreating back as he rushes out of the room to do my bidding. The Samaritan seems to have free reign of my house. It seemed like you trusted him to let him take charge of my house. My eyes turn to you to find you looking at me. I ignore your censure look. I wonder how it is that you have not yet burst an aneurysm with all those hard looks you have directed my way.
The Samaritan comes back and hands me a glass. I grimace as a new pain grips my hand while I move to grab the glass. It is ridiculous, how the slightest movement from my upper body seemed to affect my bandaged hand. It was also maddening how there was nothing I could do about it.
With exaggerated patience, I let the Samaritan fuss over me. After the water, he insists on feeding me. I take a few spoonfuls before faking exhaustion to get rid of both of you. I close my eyes, listening to the footsteps as they left the room. My eyes open once I am satisfied that the room is empty and quickly head to my medicine cabinet. I have a great need to take something that would knock me out, something to make me forget my pain.
“There is nothing there.” You say from behind me as I open the cabinet. I had not heard you get back to the room. I smile mentally. I am not the only one prone to sneaking.
“I do not know what you are talking about.” I close the cabinet having confirmed your statement. It does not come to a surprise that you have cleared the cabinet of my stash. It was becoming a game for us; me hiding and you finding. You loved the game yet I hated it since you derived me from my pleasures. All was not yet lost since I knew of some hiding places you did not.
“I am speaking of what you are looking for.” You say with a knowing look.
I tried not to smile at your words. It seems like you are practicing censorship today. You were not going to call them by the street names you thought you knew. I decided to also play coy. I point to my left wrist, “I need painkillers.”
“They are on your bedside table.” You say going along with my lie.
This is new, this is different. You always catch me out on a lie, yet today you pretend it is gospel. Yesterday’s events must have shaken you more than I imagined. I walk back to the bed and swallow the pills you hand over to me. Your posture is more alert than usual. You pull a chair by my bed as I slip into bed to keep watch.
There is a look of defeated about you. I sigh loudly and make myself more comfortable. You deserved this little victory. Today, I’ll let you win. I’ll sleep sober for the first time in a long time. As sleep crept closer I hope you enjoy this little triumph, for I knew it would not last. I knew myself very well, there is no way I would survive for long without my daily dose of supplements.
Wednesday…
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