After She Left

SEVENTEEN

"Anger is an acid that can do more damage to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured."

-Mark Twain

When you are put in a situation where you think your life is in danger, most likely you'd spend at least a split second thinking about your life decisions leading up to that moment. You might only be thinking about regrets instead of happy moments, but that's just life, it's natural.

I hate regrets. I always have. But suddenly I had one. Listening to people's and society's views on every day issues. I regretted letting them slow me down and bring me down. As much as I was a strong person, I had to admit, I let people get to me.

What people tend to say the most is - it's not that easy, I just happen to be guilty of doing so myself.

The truth is - it is that easy. You want something, you go and get it. You don't want something, you make sure it doesn't happen. I should have proposed to her, I shouldn't have left her, I should have told her I loved her, I shouldn't have made it so difficult.

So many should have's and shouldn't have been's in such a short life.

One thing I knew I would never wonder about on my death bed, though, even if it was today or 10 years after, the fact that I loved her.

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"Ru," I heard someone's voice as they gently shook my aching body.

Why is my body aching all over?

"Why isn't she waking up?" a more stressed males voice in the distance said, "I swear if you f****d this up Andre, I'll accidentally forget about our little agreement."

I wanted to open my eyes, speak yet I couldn't. It hurt too much, as if I was imprisoned by my own body, I could do nothing but feel, hear, smell and exist.

This eventually led me to the conclusion that both my hands and legs were in cuffs. Tight enough so I couldn't remove them even if I was able to move.

"She'll be fine, everyone's body is different as is the time their bodies take to get rid of the drug," Andre replied in a calm voice, "besides it's not like her being awake can help you in any way."

There was a loud noise that hurt my head, I assumed something had just been thrown against the wall.

"This is not the Quietus or whatever you guys used to call yourselves," an angry voice yelled, "so don't you dare to disrespect me when I can ruin your life by only making one call."

"You won't," Andre responded calmly.

"Excuse me?" the psycho questioned.

The arm that was holding mine disappeared as the person who I assumed to be Andre left my side: "without me, you could never make this work. So no, you won't do me or them any harm because you need me. And the second I get the chance I will kill you with my bare hands and enjoy every single second of it."

"Guards!" the guy shouted, "lock this asshole up, it's time I and Ruby had some fun."

I could hear more people entering the room: "don't you f*****g dare to touch her."

And finally, it hit me.

I was kidnapped. Luke getting shot. Lillie's blood on my hands. And finally - Andre making this happen.

I felt my clothes being taken off. Oh hell no. This is not happening. I tried my best to open my eyes, to move, but I think the most I forced out of myself was a slight finger movement.

Was I supposed to feel relieved when instead of the mental scars I thought I'd be receiving, I was instead in a lot of physical pain. Someone was straight-up cutting my skin with a knife. Not too deep, though, as if I accidentally cut my finger whilst cooking, you know, the annoying kind. But it didn't stop with one cut. It was as if the person was creating a masterpiece on my stomach.

I could feel my warm blood escaping my body, creating trails that eventually dried on my skin.

Who knows how much time had passed as the guy made cuts on my skin and poured something that really stung over them every once in a while. Each time I thought it was finished with, he would only reach for the liquid instead of stop.

A tear escaped my eye and he wiped it away: "there, there beautiful. I know quite well you're awake just unable to move, so I couldn't stop myself from properly introducing myself."

He ran his hands against the cut wounds, making me so very scared: "you have no idea how much your existence has destroyed my life, do you? So I am only taking back what was supposed to mine originally."

I could feel the blade dig deeper, almost too deep in my arm as he laughed: "do you know the beauty about scars right there? Most people that have tried committing suicide have them. They tend to stay the whole life as well."

A way to tell your vein has just been cut open? There's a lot of blood escaping the wound: "it'll serve you as a reminder of you, yourself being responsible for the situation you're in at this very moment."

The blood shamelessly ran from my body, and I thought this might be it. My brain was telling me this moment has a very high possibility of being one of the last moments of my life. But no. He wanted more. I almost wished I could die, get some rest, but he wanted me to live. Live and be in pain.

My thoughts were proven as I could feel a needle dig through my skin, and he laughed again as I screamed in pain in my brain: "did you think this was over, Ru?"

He had just cut my vein open, and now he was stitching my skin back together, aware that I was awake. With no painkillers, no nothing: "even if Andre does end up killing me today or in a month, at least you'll remember me forever. It will never be over for you."

At this point, I couldn't tell if I couldn't move or if I was forcing myself not to. I was scared of what might happen if I opened my eyes if I was able to speak and protest. What part of my body would he ruin next?

Never would I want for this person to see me break, but I could tell I already was. I was scared, I couldn't do anything to protect myself even if I had the chance to. But I refused to let him have control over me, because that is all he wanted.

Trust. I trusted Eden, I knew they would come for me, I just needed to stick it out. I will stick it out for them. I convinced myself they were working on it, I convinced myself they were all okay.

Nevertheless, the stitching never seemed to stop. It hurt more with each time he would pierce my skin.

She'll come for you, my mind was telling me.

How long had it been since I'd been here? Surely not more than a day.

She needs time, she will come soon.

Yet I couldn't help but slowly start to question that. But all I had left was hope. And I was not planning on giving up on the only thing I had left.

You're Ruby Rose for a reason, you can handle this.

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Somewhere between him stitching my skin and pouring the burning liquid on my skin, I passed out. Unfortunately, I actually woke up. This time, I actually opened my eyes, I could finally move again. But my body was weak.

I was too scared to look anywhere apart from the grey, moldy ceiling. With one last sigh, I looked around the room - it was small, old, without any windows or furniture apart from one chair that was next to my bed which more resembled an old school hospital bed than anything else.

And then I looked at my naked self, the cuffs around both my legs and arms that didn't necessarily stop me from moving in the bed. I looked at my stomach, unable to tear my eyes away. There were trials of scars around my stomach, making it seem as if I decided to get a red snake tattoo on there. And finally, my arm, I couldn't help but feel sick whilst looking at it. The dried blood made it so much worse, but the stitches which the person didn't care much about were very obvious. He had made it look as bad as humanly possible.

The whole mattress was covered in blood as was my body which explained the bad smell. I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, not that it would solve any of this or be a good idea, considering the cuts on my stomach. I wanted her to come.

But she didn't, some guy that I assumed to be a guard did, and I tried to hide my body as best as I could with my own limbs. He was wearing a mask, and I flinched back as he got closer to me, clearly demonstrating the fear I felt.

Instead of hurting me, he placed a cup and a plate on the chair next to the bed: "boss wants you to eat."

I didn't move an inch until he had left the room and I felt at least 2% safe within my surroundings. I looked at the banana, two pieces of toast and a glass of water placed on the chair next to my bed. So whoever was doing this only wanted me to survive not full-on life, considering, if my suspicions were true, I hadn't eaten in days.

By the way, my fingers were shaking and me feeling light-headed all the time, I could easily tell I needed this food, so without another second spent staring at the food, I downed all of it. It wasn't nearly enough, I needed more, but I assumed I wasn't getting any for another day or two. As if I was meant to be stuck in between death and life.

"I see you've eaten," a familiar voice said.

Just as I turned my head to see who the evil person that had done so much damage not only to me but to my friends as well, I was knocked out by no one else than him.

"Glad to finally spend some quality time with you, sis," Austin said as I drifted away, "hope you're ready for some more stitches."