Don't Let Me Fall(43)
“I don’t. I’m–” I turned and stared, frozen, at Logan and Darren walking up to me. Shit.
“Thanks, we got it,” Darren said to the kind stranger as Logan grabbed my shoulders.
“Breathe,” Logan said softly, his eyes piercing through me like he’s trying to understand what is going on with me.
I sank down onto the stairs and dug my fingers into my thighs. I’m trying to breathe but it’s not working.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong,” Logan said squatting down and taking my hands in his. Darren sat down beside me and started rubbing my back in circles.
I’m a twenty-one-year-old f*cked up baby.
“Rebeckah, tell me something,” Logan pleaded.
Noise in the background faded as I looked up at him. I let the tears run down my cheeks because I can’t hold them in anymore.
I used to be strong. Nothing could break me. Until it did. Everything just shattered and I was left behind. A tatted up body with an empty soul. I’m not living. I’m just…here.
“She died…” I got out. “Because of me.”
He has no idea what I’m talking about because I never talk about Alice but I had to get it out. I needed to say it. I needed to hear myself say it because it’s true. Everyone says
it. I need to believe it.
Right?
It’s what happened. I need to accept it.
- 10 -
I screamed and dropped to my knees as my mind let in what was happening right in front of me. Alice is sitting up against the toilet, gagging, coughing up blood, holding her stomach
as more blood gushes over her fingers.
“Ohmygod, Alice!” I screamed, crawling over to her. “What happened? Alice, who did this?!” I pressed my hand into hers and put pressure on her stomach.
Everything I knew or thought was wiped clean.
I am blank.
Nothing is registering.
“He stole…” Alice tipped her head back and coughed, blood spraying my face. I reached for my phone and tried to dial 911 but my bloody fingers just got the phone slippery and
unable to make a call.
“Ali, hold on,” I cried. “Okay. I’m going to get help.”
“No.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered while grabbing my hand, lacing our fingers together and then moving her finger over skin
repeatedly. She’s drawing on me. I know she’s drawing a heart. We always draw imaginary hearts on each other to tell each other we love them in case we don’t have a chance to
speak it.
Stop drawing and stay with me!
“Ali, you need help!” I snapped. “Someone help me!” I shouted. “Please! Someone!” I wiped my phone on my skin and got some blood off the screen. I wiped my hand on my arm and
got my finger somewhat usable. I dialed 911 and tried to speak clearly but nothing worked. I was a mess. No words were coming out right. Then it did.
“Miss, stay on the line. I’m sending an ambulance out now,” the male voice said through my phone.
“Hold on, Ali. Okay, I’ll be right back.”
I dropped my phone on the floor and ran out of the bathroom.
“Someone help me!” I shouted.
Some people at the bar saw the blood and they got up. Others started to panic when they saw how much blood was on me. My face. My knees. My hands.
I ran back into the bathroom and grabbed a bunch of paper towels as I went back to Alice. When I ran into the stall, I slipped on blood and skidded forward. My elbow collided with
Alice’s throat as I tried to put my hands up and break my fall. My eyes widened when Alice tipped her head forward and she started heaving.
“No.” I felt around her throat and tried to relieve some pressure but it wasn’t working. “No, no, no, no. I’m sorry, Ali. I didn’t–”
A guy from the bar came into the stall and took in the scene. “Jesus,” he said glancing at me.
“Help her!” I shouted.
What the f-uck is he just staring at me for?!
He bent down, more like stumbled, and stuck his fingers down her throat. My eyes couldn’t stop staring at Alice’s back as she leaned forward and vomited all the over the guy.
Blood mixed with chucks of food went everywhere.
But she didn’t make a sound after that.
When more people came into the bathroom, the guy told me to help bring her out. The stall is too small and he needs space.
We got Alice on her back on the bathroom floor and I went back to putting pressure on her stomach. That’s when I noticed her hands were lying at her sides. Not moving.
“Alice.” I looked at her face. “Alice,” I said taking her face in my hands as the guy did things to her. “Alice, look at me!” I shook her lightly and slapped her cheek but her
eyes were staring past my shoulder, looking at nothing. “Ali, please,” I sobbed leaning into her. “Please. Say something.” Please. “Say something!”
The paramedics rushed in and so did the police.
I was pulled out of the bathroom.
Away from Alice.
Away from my other half.
“Is this yours?” a police officer asked minutes later, holding up my bloody phone with his gloved fingers. I nodded. Words can’t be formed at this point. Alice is dead. Gone.