THE TWENTY-SEVENTH & TWENTY-EIGHTH

I slowly climb out of the darkness, and the first thing I notice is a steady beeping sound. I can feel crisp sheets and an ache in my wrists. My mind flicks back, and I remember the drinking, the singing, the cutting of my wrists. With a sigh, I realise that I survived, and now I am probably going to be in a world of trouble.

Taylor! Shit, pieces start coming back to me, and I am sure that I heard Taylor’s voice. My heart starts to hammer, and the steady beep increases in pace until I hear someone enter the room. Efficient, cool fingers touch my wrists, well, the parts that aren’t bandaged up, and I hear quiet murmurings. I try to open my eyes, but nothing seems to be cooperating. A warm, sluggish feeling creeps up my limbs, and then once again the darkness descends.

~*~

Beep. Beep. Beep. I want to shout at the fucking alarm for waking me up; I don’t have to be at work until seven, so why did I set it so early? I crack my eyes open, expecting to see my bedroom ceiling, but instead, I