Chapter 13 - Red Floor

* Warning: TW for blood, self harm. 

Hey people who read this story!! Thank you for clicking another chapter. Please let me know if you like it so far, i've got more to come! Have a good read, but heed the warning. Sad chapter. *

Zack's POV:

I sit on the end of my bed, numb. 

It's gotten bad again, i can acknowledge that. I feel the darkness dampening me, tugging on me to stay in this bed, to have nothing change. 

I've been in my bedroom for four days. My mum came round at some point to do what mums do best, opening curtains, making my bed around me, feeding me and putting food in my fridge. But even she couldn't get me to get up. I didn't want to worry her, so i ate small mouthfuls, the food falling like cement in my stomach.

When she left i thought about the last time. When i was at home and mum pulled me back. But she's not here this time, well not here all the time as she used to be. There is no one here but me. I stare out through my open curtains into the darkness. 

I feel the familiar tug of hunger begin to tempt me, only to be dulled by the insenant air of pain which reminds me not to move. I do not feel sad, because i do not feel anymore. Years of feeling too much, all the time has whittled my emotions down inside myself, to be lost.

There is nothing, there is everything. There is my case. There is Mack and my job role. There is my family, who are counting on me to make it. There is Becca and her new baby. There is Amelia. Oh, Amelia. 

I should text her, i think to myself. But i can't bring myself to move. I'm stuck, transfixed by numbness. But i love her. I love her deeply, more than i love myself. I can do it for her. Looking around, i find my phone face down on top of my pillow. Picking it up, i text her. Part of me hopes she doesn't come. Part of me hopes she'll take one look at me and see i am not who i pretend to me. I am the lost boy that tried to kill myself all those years ago. It doesn't seem so far away now. 

I blink, letting feeling come back into my body. My brain is unnervingly quiet, i do not own any thoughts it seems. I should cut myself, i think. A rich and indulgent thought, as tempting to me as red velvet cake. I pull out my phone again and check my app which counts how many days it's been. 1 year, 8 months, 14 days, 10 hours, 11 minutes and 36 seconds. The numbers seem significant, somehow. Something i should be proud of. If anything, i loathe these days. I want the marker at zero. I want to restart. I want to feel how i felt the last time. 

Getting up, i walk to the bathroom. Without thinking, i take out my new razor blades and unwrap one. I breathe. I don't have to do this, i think to myself. Something within me laughs, deep down, knowing it's pointless to even think that. Things like this are predetermined for me. Sometimes, when i'm trying to sleep at night, i truly believe that in every single universe i am and will always be at some point in my life, sat on the bathroom floor, watching as that blade kisses my skin. Cold against me, like a chilled coke in summer. I blink, i'm starting to dissociate. My vision goes funny, like it's not really my body that i'm feeling, and it's someone else's blood dripping onto the hardwood floor. 

It doesn't make a noise, like you would expect. It's not like how it's portrayed in movies or tv shows. The scent of iron is thick in the air, tangy, down my throat. Choking me, drowning me, smothering me. The feeling is cold, numbing but to me it's familiar. Something i can rely on to keep me here, grounded. Until i go too far, and i don't even realise. 

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Amelia's POV:

I get to Zack's apartment in ten minutes from when he texted me. It didn't sound like him, and i'm not sure he's okay.

He said key was under the mat, so i check, and a key lays flat against the carpet of the hallway, painted green with frog eyes. I smile, this is definitely Zack's place. Letting myself in, my heart is beating and i can tell something is wrong. I've never felt this sick before, it comes over me when i walk further into the flat. Something tells me to go to his bedroom. I see an open door and head towards it. 

Not in his bedroom. I check the first door, wardrobe. I don't call out, because something tells me not to. Second door i reach, my hand shaking. I open it and stare. Oh. 

"Zack?" i ask, shock taking over me.

He's crumbled in a way no one should be. He looks so uncomfortable, on the cold floor. The floor is red, sticking to my white skirt. I kneel down, taking his face into my hands. 

"Zack, honey, you got to wake up for me, yeah? Zack, it's Amelia. You in there, baby?" I ask gently.

His eyes flicker slowly, he seems to smile. "Am. I love you. S-sorry," he says weakly. His head gets heavy in my hands, slowly sinking back to the floor. 

Then i look at him, properly.

"Oh, my poor Zackary. What have you done? I love you too, my sweet sweet Zack."