Exsanguination

[Zarsies 6027]

 

“Did you regret it?” he asked. 

 

He was a slender, maybe anorexic boy. Sharp features, pale, modern reformed goth hairstyle, you know, with the mostly short sides and a bit too long on top. I was begrudgingly awakened from whatever stupor the in-between was to him sitting with his legs tightly together yet otherwise his posture lended towards the thought that he’d been here for awhile; he was lax, maybe tired. At this point I was a little too shocked to respond, all I could do was blink but the first thing I noticed was the lack of my heart jumping into my throat , something usually anxiety induced. I was tranquil, more than I’d ever felt. No, I quickly thought, this was more, this was hollowness, emptiness, nothingness.

 

“Did you regret it at any point?” he reiterated, his features betraying his attempt at hiding his uncertainty whether or not I understood him. Maybe he was too eager, maybe he hadn’t been here long, maybe it was this place. 

 

This place, I thought. I looked about and it didn’t take long to settle in; I was in the hallway of Cassandra’s house, the nice lesbian from down the street. I’ve taken a lot of drugs in this house, nothing too bad, but I knew I was sitting outside the bathroom in the absurdly long hallway on the edge of the house; no windows, no view into the rooms, just an oddly designed transitory space with a closed door to the bathroom in the middle. I’ve sat here before. A couple times, maybe. I think I say that a lot, sorry. Still, I finished glancing around and recollecting to try and figure out what kind of drug I was recovering from in Cassy’s house with some stranger twink in front of me.

 

“Sorry dude,” he muttered. “I know, I know,” he murmured with an audible sense of dejection.

 

The door beside me opened and a girl slipped out, another I hadn’t seen before. She was blushing deeply and nodded to us as she came into the now cramped hallway. “Did you?” the odd boy asked to which the girl nodded before she stepped down the hall with strange grace as though she were being lifted with each step. She snuck out of sight. Something was off, I thought, and I tried to stand. I then realized how I was sat; my jacket’s sleeves were loosely covering my arms yet they felt sticky and I couldn’t move with much vigor. I sluggishly slid an arm down and stared with both great confusion and apathy at what I saw. A long, fine gash ran from the middle of my palm to my elbow. It was dark and welled with blood but surely wasn’t clotted, the split skin looked fresh yet nothing came out, I couldn’t even feel it. I stared for a long moment, both awestruck and empty, and only the boy’s words broke me from what could have been an eternity.

 

“An Eight, huh? I half expected Nine by your frazzled state but I suppose that’s the numbness.”

 

“What?” I asked, my gaze drifting very hesitantly from my wicked-nasty sliced arm to the boy.

 

“I’m a One,” he quipped as he tapped his temple.

 

“I don’t get it,” I slurred out, perplexed.

 

“Oh, sorry,” he said as he slid his hand up to the side of his shorter hair and parted the hair with his fingers against his scalp above his ear -- something I only now realized was pierced with an industrial -- and there dwelling between his splayed fingers was what couldn’t have been anything other than a gunshot wound, a hole straight through his head but it was dark and I didn’t look for long.

 

“Damn dude, is it Halloween already? I thought it was August?” I clicked, glancing around. I knew I didn’t have the strength to stand, I felt drained. Whatever I was coming off of must have been intense.

 

“You’ll come to in a second,” he said with a dreary tone, his eyes told me of sadness but his smile was one of comfort. He looked at me for a long moment before he then tilted his head slightly and slipped a whole finger into the hole. I nearly gagged but it felt automatic and slightly faked rather than something instinctual and real; I couldn’t feel my stomach. How much had I drank? I immediately looked to my wound and tapped it, seeing if anything happened. Nope. I very cautiously probed it with my half-numb fingers before drawing back. Uh oh. I remembered.

 

“Exsanguination,” he said, “Just before Seven, jumping. Those people have to crawl out of here,” he half-laughed but I knew it was half hearted and merely for the punchline. It started coming back. Bathwater. A pear candle. The puppy scratching at the door. Biting down on my tongue; blood. Lots of blood.

 

“...Where am I?” I finally asked before asking, “Who was that girl?”

 

“I’m not sure for you. I’m sitting in the double doors between the outside and the interior of my high school. No idea who she was, just some Three.”

 

I opened my mouth for just a moment before he elaborated, “Hanging.”

 

Never before had I wanted to cry so hard yet couldn’t, never before had I felt both so riled and raging inside yet so eternally still and silent like I was hewn from vibranium.

 

“Do you regret it?” he asked again. “...Usually the long ones, the ones who see it coming, they do. They see the end as it comes near and they go primal. They panic. They cry for mom or dad and try to stop it but it’s always too late…” he trailed off, teeth chattering in some strange tic.

 

“I-I,” I babbled but it was all so smooth, all so polished and slick like all social tension I’d known in my life was gone. It was like I was just piloting my corpse through a grey, foggy dream. I didn’t get much out but I knew the answer, I couldn’t lie to myself. I nodded.

 

“Yeah,” he murmured, giving me an odd combination of puppy dog eyes and a stern frown. “Here,” he said as he reached out to me. His finger was clean and I couldn’t even notice the hole once he moved his hand. I accepted it and held his hand as firmly as I could but I knew it was weak; he slipped from his position and snatched my elbow, pulling me closer. I stared at my wound as it threatened to bleed and gush but never did as I rocked up to an unsteady stand. “I’ve seen a lot come through,” he said with a nod, “I think you’re the right one.”

 

“Right what?” I asked, both dazed and genuinely perplexed. “Are we leaving?”

 

“Come on,” he said with a more flat expression. He helped me up, held me in place by the shoulder for a moment, and then slung my cut arm around his neck and got under my armpit a bit. “We can’t stick around forever. Well, that’s a lie, we could, but I don’t want you to… everyone who leaves doesn’t come back and I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Together?” he asked, his speech slightly shaken, a bit jumbled and frantic but also sheepish and koy. God he’s weird, I thought, but it’s slightly endearing. Why not?

 

He led me down the hall and we turned the corner.

 

 

 

Just a little thing that came to mind. Maybe I'll make some dumb series, maybe I'll just leave it at this. PM me your thoouugghhhtttssss...

[/spoiler[
 

[Narthok 9213]

This was a nice read that brought up the topic well instead of beating you over the head with it. Great job.

[Zarsies 6027]

1 hour ago, Narthok said:

This was a nice read that brought up the topic well instead of beating you over the head with it. Great job.

 

Much obliged, I despise being obnoxious about those kind of subjects. Also hmu on discord ya nerd, Red Faith Naztherak incoming????

Zarsies#6396

[Narthok 9213]

6 minutes ago, Zarsies said:

 

Much obliged, I despise being obnoxious about those kind of subjects. Also hmu on discord ya nerd, Red Faith Naztherak incoming????

Zarsies#6396

Attenpt to add you didn't work