My last suicide attempt

35

Another shrill ringing filled my ears and my cheeks burned as two paramedics exited my house through the front door supporting a stretcher. A body lay on top, covered by a white sheet. A few forensic investigators followed them, big cameras hanging from their neck. One of them had a thick rope in his gloved hand, and red liquid had smeared a little on the front of the others' white jumpsuit. The press was dodging the guarding policeman, who had let go of me to back up the neighbours and news reporters that had gathered.

I could almost hear the Barguests howling loudly in the Ghost Plane over the death of my mother. That was if she was important enough for them.

Having been freed from the man's grip, I ran under the yellow tape, rubbing the rain water from my eyes. I could hear shouts from the policemen surrounding me, and the flash of the Press' cameras blinded me as I stumbled forward, darting straight for the stretcher. I didn't even know what I was thinking - it was a total mistake to want to rip that white sheet back and reveal the body lying underneath. But before I could even act on my changed mind and turn around to run away from the arms that craved to catch me, I was already ripping at the white cover. It fell to the cold, wet floor, and I instantly took a few steps backwards. The ambulance was a little too far away for the paramedics to quickly run into the back and hide her body from my eyes, and instead argued about what to do, leaving the pale body of my mother to stare up at me accusingly.

Her brown eyes were hard and blank. Her lips were as pale as her lips, and I could see the thrashing burns on her throat that the rope had left behind.

But as my heart began to beat again, my senses rushed back.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE!"

"COVER UP THE BODY!!"

So many voices screaming and shouting, so many cameras bright flashes blinding me, so many fingernails digging into my arms as policemen dragged me away from the stretcher. I stumbled onto the other side of the yellow police tape, officially blocked out of the activity playing up outside my house.

"We'll be in touch with you in a few days, Miss Jackson." A policeman said gruffly. I probably should have asked him how he knew who I was, but my head was hurting and the rain was making goosebumps explode all over my skin as I shivered in the cold. My vision blurred and as the ground span under my feet, I turned away from the house and struggled to run towards the one true place where I belonged. I knew now, I couldn't crush my human life and this vamperic world together without consequences; it was one or the other.

"Why pick either?" My voice sneered. "You don't belong in any of them."

"I do," I whispered out loud. "I must."

Mustn't I?

I came to an abrupt halt outside Xian's house, my heart aching and pounding loudly in my ears. I'd never thought to question where else I'd belong if I didn't have my mother; it never occurred to me to wonder if this was my place. The vamperic world was what tore my life apart in many places, but it was also what glued the shattered remains of what was once my old life. It all came down to vampires in the end. Stumbling forward one more, I arrived at the front door. All my aches went away as I felt the warm draft from inside the house as the door lay ajar, though not a single form of life appeared inside. I crept into the house and shut the door silently, chewing my lip to stop the loud sobs from escaping my chest as I carefully made my away through the house, towards the conservatory. I sat on the dull floral printed sofa pressed against a glass wall, slipped off my shoes and stared out at the pouring rain.

Another parent gone.

I was all alone this time. Vampires couldn't count. My voice was right, I didn't belong in either worlds. I was neither human nor vampire. Just a misfit, an outcast.

"Avni," a voice sounded, so quiet it could have been part of the harsh, whistling winds outside. But only that voice could make warmth spread through my veins on a freezing, icy cold day. Suddenly, all my aches really were gone. Suddenly, I found myself unable to cry anymore, as if that voice had washed all my sadness away.

I glanced at the doorway, and felt stunned into a silence. I couldn't even find my breath.

There he was; dark hair tousled slightly from the rain outside, emerald eyes ablaze even in the dull light of the nasty day. Even though his lips were pulled down into a grimace, I could see a form of relief, maybe even happiness glinting in his eyes. His dark clothes only made his skin glow even paler.

I turned my head away from the gloomy, yet comforting figure named Xian. It had been days since I'd seen him. Even though a part of me yearned to grin and reply with a witty sentence, I couldn't. My heart was on a low, and my mood was even lower. His presence lifted a part of me, and I couldn't nudge that thought away - the one that whispered tauntingly at the back of my mind that we had hardly seen each other these past two weeks.

The seat next to me on the sofa sank as he sat down.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wish there was something I could do to make you better, to bring her back. I'm sorry I can't do anything. I'm sorry I didn't. I just wish-"

"I don't want to talk about it," I whispered, blinking back the tears before letting my eyes wander over to him. His deep green eyes were heavily staring back at me; soft, reassuring, glinting in the light. Inside, I felt my heart soar and I just wanted to let a smile play across my lips. In reality, I couldn't muster up anything more than a failed attempt of a smile; more like a thin line as I mash my lips together.

"Come with me, I'll find some clothes of Tessa's of which you can change into until we're granted access into your home." Xian finally said, standing up and offering his hand to me. I took it, and was grateful to feel the soft little tug of his fingers in mine rather than a forceful pull. As we walked through the silent house, I noted my wet footprints on the floor and hung my head in shame; I wasn't exactly subtle about my presence.

Xian let go of my hand but gestured for me to follow him as we reached the first floor landing. I raised my eyebrows as we walked straight past his door and straight ahead towards the other end of the narrow hallway.

"Spare room," Xian grunted, shoving open the door. Inside, it was just plain; deep crimson red walls with the same coloured curtains to match. There was a double bed pressed against the west wall, and two windows topped with window-seats indented into both for affect. There was a large oak wood wardrobe on the east wall, facing the bed complete with a little black key in the lock.

The room was cast with dim light from the rainy day outside, but Xian flicked on the bedside lamp, making the room glow cosily.

"Where is everyone?" I murmured, retreating towards the cushioned bench-seat at the end of the bed.

"Reuniting at a more romantic destination," He replied, leaning against the wall next to the window and shoving his hands into his dark trouser pockets. "In ways that should be forbidden to fall upon anybody's ears except theirs. But hey, what can you do? Anyway... there are some sweats in here somewhere..." He turned to the wardrobe, unlocked it carefully and dug through the hangers.

I sat still and silent, watching him dig out clothes for me to wear. Eventually, he retreated from the cupboard with a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms and a black vest shirt. Slamming the wardrobe shut, he turned to me with raised eyebrows, awaiting my approval.

"That's fine," I nodded, standing up. He handed me the clothes, his icy hands brushing mine, his gaze colliding with my own.

"You look cute as a drowned rat," he said cheekily, tugging his lips up at the corners.

"Shut up, Xian." I murmured. He fell silent and I watched as he sat on the window seat. I was surprised at myself when I didn't ask him to leave, and instead turned so that my back was to him while I changed. Once in warm, dry clothes, he took the wet clothes from me and put them into a bamboo wash basket.

"I missed you," He breathed, his dark hair falling over his eyes so I couldn't see the look he was giving me. Again, my heart did cart-wheels, but it was all wrong. We couldn't be like that, because it was physically impossible. He was cursed, and I was... well, not.

"Please don't," I replied. Not harshly, but quietly. I was ashamed of the response I HAD to give; I couldn't deal with another heartbreak. Everybody I turned out to love or show affection towards ended up leaving some way or another. Just imagining Xian leaving me made me want to weep.

Minutes passed, my words dragging along in the breeze. I could feel his eyes on me, but it was as if I didn't have the guts to meet his gaze. I probably didn't.

"I missed you too," I whispered, giving in. My lips trembled, but before I could turn away, I felt his arms pull me to his chest tightly. His hands were pulled into fists, his knuckles pushing into the bottom of my back softly. Ignoring this, I enclosed my arms around his neck, and buried my face into his shoulder. For a moment, everything stood still - everything, for a tiny millisecond, was perfect here with Xian.

But a deep soreness developed in my chest at the thought of me being happy; I should be mourning, crying, begging for my mother back. Instead, I was here with Xian, overcome by the sweet bliss that ran through me whenever he was around.

It was involuntary.

And no matter how much I tried to hide it from everyone, I wasn't even fooling myself. I had everything to deny; feelings, wanting, needing, and dreaming of him. I'd accomplished more than I bargained for, and maybe so had he. Or maybe not; maybe he was just trying to soften me up for the blow when he turns around and says he doesn't need me around anymore.

"Are you okay?" Xian asked, bringing me back to reality. "You're shaking a bit. Are you cold?" He pulled away, eyes scanning my form. I hadn't even realised I was shaking until he stated it; no, I wasn't cold. I was guilty, like a naughty little school girl sent to the head teacher's office. All I could think about was Xian, when I should be begging for my mother back.

"I'm fine," I said, moving back a little to give us both room.

"You're lying to me."

I looked down at the floor, chewing on the inside of my cheek and breathing deeply to hold back the sobs once more. "Okay. I feel bad that my mind is on- that my mind is elsewhere when I should be hurting over my mother's death. I mean, I don't even know if she killed herself. Why would she do that? And-"

"Avni," He stopped me. "It's natural for your mind to wander. You're trying to deny that her death is real, I understand that. If you want to think about other things, think about other things. It will take time for it to hit you. It took me a year to finally understand that my brother, my parents and my friends weren't coming back. Maybe it's better for you to think about other things."

But now that I'd stated I was thinking of other things, she was all I could think about. I just wanted to go back to thinking of something else, anything else. All I could see was her blank face staring up at me on the stretcher in the pouring rain; her voice echoing over and over in my head for me not to leave her.

I was just about to run to the bathroom and hide away, when something caught my eye.

"Ohmigod," I gasped. "Are you actually wearing suspenders?"

Sure enough, black suspenders were hanging down his outer thigh, practically blending in with his suit trousers. When I thought my world was going to crumble down, he was always the one to bring a smile to my face. Even if it was because of his suspenders. Despite my mocking tone, I had to admit, he made suspenders look... well, yum.

There really were no words to describe it.

"Sure am," he said. "And I'm darn chuffed with 'em too. I haven't brought these babies out in a long time. Everybody knows it's not really a suit if you're not wearing suspenders!" He grinned brightly at me, happy with himself. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me, his emerald eyes flickering with a slight tinge of red. Something I'd never noticed before. "Do they look sexy?" He asked, his lips twisting up into a cocky smirk.

I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back the scoff I wanted to blurt out. I just stood there, crossing my arms across my chest to put space between us.

"Sure..." I replied. "If you like that kind of thing, I guess."

"I'll just take them off then, right?" He grinned, his thumbs sliding into the waist of his black trousers. "Since you don't like this kind of thing. After all, I live to please you, Avni. I'd have thought you knew that one by now." His attitude was laced with sarcasm, but his eyes glinted playfully. I stared at his thumbs, not knowing what I wanted to achieve by doing so. My eyes widened as they tugged at his trousers teasingly. Without my eyes leaving his thumbs, I could see him biting back a laugh.

"No!" I said quickly. "It's okay. I like that kind of thing. Just keep your trousers on."

He shook his head, chuckling to himself. Silence dawned over us as the last playful, more cheery conversation was terminated. He edged onto the window seat, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs, leaning his head against the glass. His eyes seemed to become more dull as they glazed over; all flecks or tinges of red gone.

His eyes were almost as empty as I felt.

It's amazing how somebody like him - cocky, arrogant, pretty much bipolar - could make me feel so numb. It's amazing how he could make me feel okay again. Today, it was like a magnetism; when he's happy, so am I. Now that his mind is elsewhere and he's not so happy, it's vice versa. It only just occurred to me how... sweet he was being, distracting me, making me think of something else. Making me better with a flash of his smile and a glint in his eyes.

And now it was my turn. Remembering the last real time we'd been together, the greeting he'd given me, I said, "Penny for your thoughts?"

He seemed to snap out of his hazy swishing thoughts, and turned to me. "You won't be getting my two cents today, princess."

"I never do," I rolled my eyes, smiling as I approached him. "If I had a pound for every time you denied me something, I'd surely be rich by now."

He suddenly pulled away from his dull world, his smile seeming to light up the room more than the lamp on the bedside table. He jumped up from the window seat quicker than my eyes could register, and was already in front of me, looping his fingers through the belt holes in my jeans and pulling me closer.

"I wouldn't deny you if you asked me the right questions." He said.

"What are the right questions then?"

"I wonder," he smirked down at me, his fingers still looped through my jeans. His smile wavered just a little, and he dropped his hands, letting them fall to his sides. "Why do we do this to each other?"

I gnawed my lip for several moments before answering. "Because we both have nothing and nobody left."

He blinked, his face blank. His eyes betrayed him, though; seeping through the emerald green was emotions so passionate that I couldn't even recognise them. Xian shrugged, but then nodded.

"For a blonde, you're quite clever." He teased.

"Shut up!" I glared at him, stumbling forward and swiping his arm with my palm as hard as I could. He just scoffed at me, and he turned around so that his back was to me so he could see the thunderous, rainy storm outside.

He sighed. Xian seemed to be as glum as ever tonight.

"It's getting worse you know," He said. I walked to the space next to him, looking out the window too. Lightning cracked through the purple skies, bolts shooting down to earth, striking nearby. Following that, a clap of thunder rumbled the earth, shaking its cores as the rain poured heavily down onto the ground. Wintery temperatures and rubbish weather constantly.

"Why is it like this? It's only November," I murmured. I didn't expect Xian to answer - more like, I didn't expect him to have an answer - but he did.

"It's a change, isn't it? Normally for 'round about this time of the year, the sun can shine every now and then but it'd be frosty, foggy. Throughout the entire year it's been this way. It's not only a change - it's a drastic change. A signal. Something is coming, but I don't know what. Nobody knows."

"You make everything sound terrifying." I noted.

"Everything is terrifying in my world," He said.

"Isn't it our world now? You know, since I'm becoming a part of it."

"No," His voice was no more than a whisper, just a breath, but it was still ice cold. I didn't know what he meant by that; of course I was part of his world. By his world, I referred to the vampire world.

"You're not part of that world. You're not part of any world." My voice ushered.

I sighed, and turned away from the window. "I think that's enough for one day."

"It probably is," Xian agreed. "I'll leave you to get to bed."

"Can't you stay?" Before I could have stopped myself, the words were already out. But I didn't apologise for saying them, nor did I clap my hands over my mouth as if it had been a mistake. Xian had flitted to the door, but he turned around to face me. The lamp on the bedside table flickered on and off, before plunging us into darkness as the light bulb gave up. With nothing but the flashing lightning outside to help us see, I could hardly see him. The minutes ticked by; each second feeling like a week, each minute feeling like years as the silence stretched between us.

"No," he said. His voice was so icy that I took a startled step back as his words hit me square in the chest; "No I can't stay. Goodnight." As if on cue, the lightning flashed across the room, allowing me to see that I was on my own once more. He was already gone, leaving me lower in the dumps than I had been before. Drowning in my own deep pool of misery, I crawled into bed. But not before I heard a door slam shut.

It had been hours since I first lay down in the bed. All those drug-infused actions belonging to my mother were racing in my head, being the only thing I could see. Like that time she chased me up the stairs as I ran to the toilet and flushed her dope - the first honest, open conversation I'd had with Xian after he rescued me. Like my father's funeral, to which she didn't show up for but instead sent a bunch of dying roses. And I could see the countless amounts of time she'd thrown glass bottles at me, and all the white powder she used to obsessively line up on the worktop in the kitchen. But then the bad things disappeared, and all those that were good were surfacing.

I could see the warm, infectious grin she had on her face as she put a little birthday cake on the table in front of me, fifteen candles spread out on the cake, my father by her side as he smiled too. And the way she'd cuddle down into my father's side on the sofa on a Thursday night, film night. She'd cook us dinner and afterwards, she'd make my father a coffee and then make me a hot chocolate - every night, without fail. She read me a story every night until I was eleven. She brought me up a warm mug of milk with a teaspoon of honey on the nights I couldn't sleep. And when I had nightmares, she'd be the one checking under my bed and in the wardrobe for the boogie-monster.

I was sitting on the sofa, my heart deprived of love and care, nothing but heartbreak spreading throughout my entire numb body. She was just coming in from work, her black blazer slung over her arm and her white blouse tucked into her black skirt. For a few moments, she just stared at me as I cried. She ran out of the room for a few moments, until, alas, she joined me. She dabbed away the blood on my forehead, before wrapping her arms around me and hugging me until I couldn't cry and I couldn't breathe. When I'd stopped crying, she ushered me into the car and drove me to the hospital to get stitches in my head. It made her sad to think that the first guy I'd ever loved had done that to me.

But she took care of it. She stayed with me while they threaded the needle through my skin, tugging the open wound closed. She held my hand as I told lies to the police and said I'd fallen down the stairs when I was home alone (my Dad was away at that time, so it was just me and my mother). I should have told them the truth; JorMicheal had done that to me, but I couldn't. Not because he'd come after me, but because I just couldn't muster up the courage to come forth. My mother kept quiet, though she swore that someday, somehow, when things with my dad had cleared up and he was getting better, she'd take care of it. Not in a raging way as in she was going to kill him, but she said she wouldn't let him get away with it.

And it was all gone.

Those caring memories, the hurtful ones, the drug-infected ones, every single memory, every single moment was thrown out of the window now. She wasn't here anymore, and I only had my memories to rely on to tell me those stories. The good and the bad, each one I cherished now, no matter what.

I sat up in the bed, startled out of my daydreaming state. My heart was pounding against my ribcage painfully as I stared out at the dark corners of the room. The entire house had been silent for oh-so many hours, and the rain had stopped now, the storm calming. Outside, it was only thick grey clouds. Inside, it was only pitch black darkness and a long silence. I looked at the digital clock, the red digits glowing.

It was two thirty a.m. - it had been so, so many hours. More than I'd thought. I'd paced the room, I'd tapped a rhythm on the windowpane and even debated leaving the room altogether. But it was almost as if I were afraid. Instead, I walked or lay down in complete silence, listening to nothing but the house creaking slightly and my heart beating a deep, heavy beat in my chest. Truth be told, I felt so... alone tonight. Xian wasn't here and I wasn't sleeping.

I slid out from beneath the covers, my skin coaxed with a thin layer of sweat. As I approached the door, I took a deep breath and wrenched it open. I was faced with a narrow, dimly-lit hallway. I gnawed the inside of my cheek as I began to walk down the corridor, yearning to be in the safety and loneliness of the spare room again, but needing to find Xian more than anything.