My last suicide attempt

34

"HEY! OVER HERE!" I yelled. Her smoky-coloured hair swayed Rabifully down her back, her black dress blowing in the invisible breeze against her grey skin.

"Avni!" Vistoc hissed, clapping his hand over my mouth before I could shout again. "No, don't!"

I pried his hand away, staring up at him, outraged. Why didn't he want the help? Why didn't he want the company?

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Avni... thousands of people die everyday," Madame said, turning me around so that I was facing him. His features were tender, soft. "You can't see them, can you? None of them... besides this one woman."

"You can only see somebody in the Ghost Plane if you have a blood bond or, like us, arrived here together."

I blinked, confused. I looked back at the woman on the field; still stumbling, she wouldn't turn around so I could see her.

"I'm so sorry," Vistoc said, pulling me into a hug. Puzzled, I pushed him away and stared up at him questioningly. He shook his head. "You don't understand, do you?"

"No. Please enlighten me, oh mighty one." I replied sarcastically, irritated as the woman began to get even further away. We were loosing precious time; it was now or never, and soon enough she'd be lost in the trees on the other side of the field and our only chance of hope, of company would be gone.

"By blood-bond, Vistoc means blood-related." Madame said, answering for Vistoc. I narrowed my eyes, darting my gaze between the both of them. It took a few moments for me to realise what they meant.

Someone in my family had died, and was now here.

The only problem with that is the only family I had left was my mother.

At that moment, a low, growling came from down the road. My head snapped into that direction, only to see a pack of black dogs, their sharp teeth bared, yellow eyes furious. There were about ten of them, all slowly getting closer and closer. The woman on the field heard the sound too, and whirled around.

As she turned, her face being revealed to me, my stomach dropped and my heart lurched forward. Even from here, I could see the rough marks on my mother's throat, similar to that of rope burns. My heart stopped as her eyes met mine.

Was she...?

She couldn't be.

She just couldn't.

But she was. The fact that she was translucent - like a ghost in a badly-made horror film - told me that her soul had departed from her body. My mouth opened just a little to say her name, but nothing came out. She stared back, lips trembling, body shaking, a puzzled expression washing across her face. She ran towards us, across the field, sobbing.

"NO!" Vistoc burst out. Frozen to the spot, I could only look on. A few dogs from the pack of Barguests threw themselves into the air, snarling, hissing and growling as they headed straight for my mother, who was chronically unaware of what was really happening. I wanted to shout out as the dogs came just inches from her, claws extended and ready to rip into her soul and send her to hell, when Vistoc slammed into them all at the same time.

My mother was panting heavily on the spot, tears overflowing in her eyes as she absorbed the scene before us. Madame was stood next to me, also breathing deeply. The remaining Barguests stopped snarling, the entire Ghost Plane descending into silence, save for the sound of clothes tearing, a few yelps and a slushy sound that could only be associated with flesh being torn. Three Barguests were atop of Vistoc, who made no noise whatsoever. Blood began to seep out from the centre of them; from Vistoc.

"Vistoc!" Madame yelled, sinking to his knees, helpless. I couldn't breath, but sobs were rising up from my chest, choking me, trying to escape from my swollen throat. The Barguests pounced off of Vistoc, snarling with victory before running, joining the rest of the pack as they headed east.

I screamed at the sight before me.

Vistoc lay there, head lolling to the side. His shirt was torn apart, deep slashes carved into his chest, the flesh having been ripped from his body. Blood oozed out of the cuts slowly, as if taunting us all. More red liquid splurted out of his throat. I was just about to join Madame in wallowing on the floor, when Vistoc's index finger of his extended right hand twitched. Hope lit up inside of me, and I pried Madame from his shoulders.

"Come ON, he's still alive! Get up!!" I demanded, pulling on Madame as hard as I could. Eventually, giving into my pleas, he rose from the floor and flitted to his friend's side. Vistoc's deep, chocolate brown eyes slowly wandered to me as I lowered myself on his other side, and his dry lips moved in the slightest.

"H...ho...home..."

"But I can't-" I cut myself off when Vistoc gave me just the tiniest of nods. His eyes were pleading with me, screaming that this was my only chance to save his life, and to save all of ours. I nodded back, breathing deeply as I looked up at Madame.

"Now is my only chance," I said. "We're going home, we're going to save him."

"We can't take any risks-"

"We can, and we are." I replied firmly. I gripped Madame's hand, and Vistoc's extended, weak arm and shut my eyes. But I gasped, and whirled around, opening my eyes. There, stood my mother, still shaking as she wavered in and out of visibility.

"She can't come with us," Madame said quietly, solemnly. "She's already fading into oblivion. We're too late, Avni. We can't save her."

I never broke eye contact with my mother, who was slowly fading from my sights. Little sobs built up from my chest, my heart beating painfully against my ribcage as tears streamed down my cheeks. I'd never let her in, I'd never told her a thing about me... and this was our only goodbye; a few brief exchange of words before she faded forever into oblivion. At least there, she'd be happy.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking.

My mother pressed her lips together to stop them trembling, and then her eyes widened with realisation - and fear. Realising that I was leaving without her, and fear she'd be on her own. She stared down at her distorted body as it began to go fuzzy, like bad reception on an old TV.

"I love you," I said firmly. "But I have to go. I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes and turned away from her so I didn't have to see her pained, betrayed expression any longer. I felt Madame squeeze my hand gently, and I received a tiny twitch from Vistoc, whose time, I knew, was running out. Madame whispered the little nothings into my ear once again, and the low, falling feeling descended upon me again. My voice was lost, and my senses were numb, besides my hearing, which was still slowly becoming impaired.

But I heard enough to hear my mother scream, "Don't leave me!" her voice laced with terrorised fear. It was too late; I knew that for sure as an icy wave of coldness washed over me, and I became one, floating in the darkness. I was completely alone and leaving my mother behind in the Ghost plane, knowing she was never going to return, I thought of nothing but home, until I realised that without my mother, I didn't really know where my home was...

+ + +

Their claws, so sharp, slowly, tauntingly, painfully dug deep into my skin and began scratching down my sides. In my pathetic attempt to ward them off, I only made myself weaker. I couldn't find my voice to scream, I couldn't rid myself of the foggy vision I had been given. But I did not have to see them to know who - or what they were.

"Fight them, princess," My voice whispered. "Fight to be free!"

But I didn't want to fight anymore. I was throwing in the towel, holding up the white flag, I was giving up. Enough was enough. Someone else could have the responsibility, the pain, the weight of the world on their shoulders for once.

It all hurt way too much.

But before I could heave out a sigh, their claws were replaced my soft hands caressing where the gouges should have been. The hard floorboard under my back had obviously collided with my spine forcefully; every bone in my body felt shattered. Voices sounded as whispers around me, and a few groans sounded shortly after. My mind was racing too fast for me to keep up. Their words were slurred, inaudible and the hands were urging me to stand up. I couldn't. I didn't want to.

I had given up, even if I had escaped... THEIR claws. I was still giving up.

"Avni! Get up, c'mon! Open your eyes!" A voice shouted above the shrill ringing filling my ears. I could hear dragging across the wooden floorboards that my ear was pressed to. I sighed briefly; it wasn't the voice I wanted to hear. In fact, I didn't even know whose voice that was. I didn't care. It wasn't him...

I wanted HIS voice.

No one else.

I didn't need anyone else...

"Avni, get up damnit!" Someone else grunted. "We need to find your mother!"

Every muscle in my body iced over, frozen. My breath caught in my throat, and already my eyes stung with tears. Her voice rolled around in my head as she begged for me not to leave her there alone in the Ghost Plane, in death's sight. I didn't listen.

I left her, dead, alone.

Gone forever...

And I was to blame.

"That's right Avni," The same someone - Madame, I think - said gruffly. "We can't find her without you. Come on!"

Muscles stiff, I untangled my limbs nonetheless and heaved myself up. Vision blurred already by salty tears, I didn't look at either Madame or the other girl. Instead, I ran from the room as fast as I could, bolting down the stairs and out of their front door, desperate to find my mother. As if I could do anything to save her. As if anyone could do anything to bring her back.

The rain pelted down onto my face as I shoved the pedestrians out of my way, ignoring their disapproving grunts. My legs moved as fast as I could make them move in the freezing cold rain, and my heart was racing so fast that it hurt. I knew none of the vampires were following me; at least, they weren't behind me whenever I cast a weary glance over my shoulder. What did it matter if they were following me? They could do about just as much as I could - which wasn't a lot. Surely, not even manipulating time or whatever the hell it was I could do could bring my mother back from the dead. I should have told her so much more. I should have opened up to her.

"Should you have really?" My voice asked.

...Or maybe I shouldn't have? But what good did it do to me to not have a mother-daughter relationship with her? I couldn't muster up clear thoughts long enough to answer myself.

I turned the corner, and slammed straight into somebody's chest. Arms clung onto the top of my arms, holding me up while the man cleared his throat.

"Where d'ya think you're going, ma'am?" He muttered grimly. "Ya can't go in there. The police tape indicates that no persons is allowed beyond this point, ya see?"

"No, wait this is my house, you have to let me in!" I exclaimed, pounding my fists against his chest and hoping that'd make him stop refraining me from running to my mother. What did I even expect to find? Her, sat at the dining room table, waiting for me to come back home? No. The rope burns on her throat I'd seen suggested otherwise. But why would she do this to herself? I thought she was getting better. Or maybe I was such a bad daughter - never having time to stick around and hear how her day had gone - that I never saw the signs that she was, in fact, getting worse.

"If this is your house then, ma'am, would ya please step aside so we can discuss the situation?" His southern accent was thick, and right now, it was annoying me. I refused to just stand around and wait to be questioned, when my mother could - and probably was - dead inside the house stood before my eyes. As more police cars turned up, parking themselves against the curb, I was still being held back by the guarding policeman whom stopped me from entering my driveway.