Beauty in the Ashes

“Shit!” I screamed.

I didn’t want to leave her on the cold tile floor by herself, it seemed wrong, but I had to. I gently laid her down, stuffing a towel under her neck to keep it elevated—that’s what you were supposed to do right? Fuck. I didn’t know. I was clueless.

I ran out of the bedroom and found my phone. I fumbled to dial 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?” The lady spoke with a pleasant, calm tone.

“Help! You have to help her! She’s dead! Oh God I think she’s really dead!”

“Who’s dead?”

“She’s my…girlfriend,” I said for lack of a better term. I knelt down beside her. “Please, she was in the bathtub and I think she tried to kill herself!”

“Do you know CPR?”

“Don’t you think if I knew how to perform CPR I would’ve done it by now?” I screamed into the phone. “Please, send someone as fast as you can! I can’t lose her! I can’t!”

“Help is on the way,” she said.

“Don’t you need the address?” I asked. I didn’t want them to get lost. They needed to get here now. She needed help. Seconds were precious commodities that could not be spared.

“Sir, you used a cell phone. I already have your location.”

“Thank God,” I muttered and hung up. I probably wasn’t supposed to do that, but I didn’t care.

As minutes ticked by and I searched weakly for a pulse, I saw her color begin to pale and her body fall slack.

There would be nothing they could do.

But there was something I could do.

I wasn’t going to sit here and watch someone else I loved be ripped away from me. It was too painful. I couldn’t keep living while everyone else I loved was dead. Even if they were all in Heaven and I was destined for Hell, that would be better than living this pathetic existence.

I left her once more, but not for long.

I went to my apartment in search of the one thing that would take it all away.

Once I had it grasped in my hand, I was ready.

In her bathroom once more, I curled my body around hers.

I reached for the syringe and inserted it into my vein. Every last bit of heroin I had in my possession entered my blood system. I knew it was more than enough to be deadly. Dropping the syringe to the side I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cold neck.

“I’ll see you all soon,” I whispered.

Sirens sounded in the distance, but they meant nothing.

They were too late.

This was it.

I was Romeo and Sutton was my fucking Juliet.

CHAPTER 26

Sutton

People who die and come back from the dead always seem to fail to mention how much it hurts.