Page 63 of Cry For Mercy

Chapter Twenty-Four

JULIE

I tried to behave like everything was normal. I stopped by the coffee shop, and grabbed a takeaway coffee, and then I started on my walk home. When I got there, I pushed the door shut and stared at my prison for the next eight days. I knew I wouldn’t leave the house at all.

I felt like my life was slipping out of my control. It probably didn’t look to an outsider like I had any, but I did. I worked. That was my life. I kept people away, because they couldn’t be trusted. Except for Cassidy. She’d been the one who’d broken through that exterior, and made me smile and laugh. Talked to me when I felt down or lonely. Maybe it just all never meant anything to her. Maybe she saw me as a burden. And maybe that’s why she left.

I pressed my fingers against the new cuts on my thigh, feeling a wave of relief, as the skin burned under my fingers. Why did pain help me reach clarity, when I felt like I was losing control? I had no idea. Why did cutting my skin make me feel like I was taking back that control? I’d never thought to find out. It worked when I needed it to. That was all that mattered.

And now I’d driven Adam away. Disgusted him with my behaviour, and my inability to cope with anything. Cassidy left me, and now Adam has left me too.

I dumped everything in the hallway, and went to the kitchen. The co-codamol I’d brought down for Adam was there. Enough pills there to make me sleep. Maybe enough to do even more than that. Did I have the courage? How long would it take for someone to even notice I was gone? Work wouldn’t know for more than eight days. Would I lay here, rotting, and stinking, until they finally checked?

I opened the freezer, digging out the bottle of vodka I’d kept there for so long. It was to be something to share with a friend. But I had none. So it just sat there.

I had to wrap a towel around the ice cold bottle to be able to hold it, to open it. I poured a tall glass of it. I didn’t plan to waste time pouring shot after shot.

I took the glass, and the pills to the hallway. I glanced at my bag, knowing my phone was inside.

Then I ignored it, and went upstairs.

I was halfway up the stairs when I heard my mobile ringing. It wasn’t like it would be important. I ignored it, heading up the stairs to my room. I set the vodka by the bed, and the pills, and then I went to the bathroom, reaching for the pack of fresh blades. If I cut now, I’d have the courage to do the rest.

Sliding my work skirt off, and stepping out of it, I slipped my tights off, and dumped them on top of it. The large plaster I’d placed over the newer cuts showed a dark patch, meaning that they had bled beneath the plaster.

I chose the other thigh instead, slicing the blade beside the last cut. I was always careful to not go too deep. Adam had said I’d bleed out, but not if I was careful.

It took three cuts again, before I started to feel in control. The pain was like a burning line of ice each time, and it roared through me, piecing me back together again. I cried as I cleaned up the mess, and placed a new plaster over the new cuts. Both thighs were stinging with pain now. It was enough. It would get me through.

It occurred to me then, that I should fetch my phone, and leave some message of some kind, for when I was found. Something that told my parents why. They should know that this all began with them, but that I’d been the one to have the courage to end it.

When I dug my phone out of the bag, I noticed two missed calls from an unknown number.

I frowned. Who would be ringing me? It rang again as I stared at it, and I nearly dropped it, as it scared the hell out of me.

Unknown number again. Something made me answer it.

For a moment there was nothing. Silence. And then a quiet voice broke that silence.

“Julie, is that you?”

I gasped, my hand to my face.

“Cassidy?”

I heard a small sigh. “Yes. Oh god, Julie. I’m so sorry I left. I… it was unforgivable.”

I felt my legs shaking, so I dropped down and sat on the wooden hallway floor. It was Cassidy. She was alive!

“Julie, are you there, sweetie?” I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. It was really her.

“I’m... I thought you were dead.” I whispered, wondering how the hell she was ringing me, and why now? Why at this exact moment?

“I’m so sorry, Julie. You deserved more than that. I… some things happened, and I had to get out.”

My hands were shaking, making the phone quiver against my ear.

“Are you hurt? Do you need help?”

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