Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Yrene's PoV

Bear and I talk about anything and everything; it was like that with us, conversation came easy and flowed smoothly. No holds barred whatsoever. Explicit. Comforting. Much needed.

"Bear I'm gonna miss you a lot, you know?"

"We have many more years together Yr, why are you worrying about it now? Besides you don't even know how much I'm gonna miss you when you run off to university."

My heart sinks slowly at his words; university...Cambridge, dreams, mechanical engineering, career, everything seemed so foreign and lost, so far gone since I had made the decision of ending my life before it even reached that point.

I hug Bear tightly, sighing, and after what seems like forever, I let him go. He kisses my forehead,

"Never forget that whenever you need me I'll be here. Anytime and every time for my baby sister."

I hug him once again and kiss his stubbled cheek, inhaling my self proclaimed 'Big Bro's' scent of cologne and Tom Ford's Black Orchid.

I leave then.

I walk through the halls slowly at first but then seeing that the corridor is pretty much abandoned, I break into a run; whizzing past classrooms and offices alike.

To anyone who might have seen me, it would seem as if I was late for a class or something. However, even at my speed, I notice that they had renovated one other room at the end of the corridor, probably for a new teacher, I think to myself dismissively.

I don't care enough, to be very honest, as I run up the stoned stairs, one spiralling staircase after another until I reach the top of the battlement. I look around to see as I stand atop Battlement Three, as we call it.

A shiver crawls down my spine when the impact of what I am here to do finally hits me. And for what seems to be the longest time I stand there, utterly paralysed by the gravity of the step I am here to take.

Adrenaline and anxiety course through every fibre and vein in my body as I completely stand outside, in the centre of the pillar.

I inhale, a long heavy sigh, and something in the air tells me to give my brain one last chance, to try something easier than death first; I listen.

I take out my trusty silver blade from my back pocket, take off Ross's jacket inhaling its scent deeply before setting it down and rolling up my sleeve, I begin slicing the already marred skin over and over again.

At first I wince at the pain first but then it becomes a friend as the memories roll through, as if on a film reel. Memories of what could have been. Memories of what had been. Rebecca's snarky comments and my mother's taunting remarks are on replay with the occasional image of my Father holding a cane in his hand as I back away from him.

I could clearly hear the people in the hallways calling me fat all those years ago, my dance teacher refusing to put me in a dance because I was "too overweight" and ignoring the fact that I could actually dance. People making it evident I would never be good enough. Everyone blaming me for everything I hadn't done. It all played through my mind clearly as I drive the blade deeper and deeper.

I might've screamed or I might've cried out my sorrow silently but it all happens too quickly for me to decipher. For all I know I might've got amnesia for a spell of time. I don't even think anything through and let my feet carry me to the edge of the pillar.

I stand on the upright piece of the gigantic battlement, those on the ground might have only seen me as a speck in the sky, such was the height of this pillar. My mind goes blank as one foot of mine hangs in the air and the other remains planted on the upright piece.

Before I can bring the one planted on the edge any closer to the one in the air strong, muscular forearms wrapped around my waist, and attempted to pull me down. I don't know who they belong to but in the back of my mind I can hear the man holding me faintly screaming as I attempt to break free of his hold and jump through.

I am screaming too. I think. I am looking at him but I can't see who it is.

My mind wanted peace and just when I was about to have it this hulk man thing showed up, not letting me have it. My eyes are glassed by tears and my mind by haze of a certain want, the want, no, need, need of death.

I don't notice having been pulled down by the hulk but now that I am standing in front of him I can see the blade and discarded jacket on the other side, but when did I throw the blade? I do not have an answer to my own question. I didn't know.

I wanted to sleep; not just any sleep I wanted eternal sleep. My brain and body demanded it continuously but this strong arm wasn't letting me achieve it.

in futile attempts, I try to claw off his arms, struggling against his hold a while longer but then, after some time, realising I cannot escape I stop and just collapse onto the stone ground. My knees not having felt the impact of the fall because the mental agony is enough on its own and needed no partner in order to make me suffer. Ironic.

After what feels like forever I look up to see the person who had stopped me's face.

Still in a daze I can vaguely make out the features: The sharp, chiseled jaw, the molten gold eyes shining brighter than ever in the afternoon sun yet laced with panic and concern, the mocha hair and the rolled sleeves bearing those toned forearms, a plain button down, navy blue shirt and a pair of specs.

When I came to my senses, eventually, I saw, there in all his glory stood the Greek god himself, ladies and gentlemen, yes, none other than Mr. Chase Drew was before me; albeit with an expression of sheer worry painted on his handsome face.