Disclaimer: This chapter contains blood imagery and touches on a very sensitive subject. Do NOT keep reading if it could trigger you, thank you. 

Daisy

I keep glancing at James from the corner of my eye. His eyes...they look like whatever light there was inside...left. It's now like looking into a dark, cold tunnel. Empty. He's living without living. Seeing without seeing.

The golden chains wrap around him even tighter, and another layer of chains form. This time, a heavy metal ball links to the end of the chain. James...I must save James...

So I run. I run, and I run, and I run. Faster and faster. Quicker and quicker. Until the world is spinning, until my eyes start crossing. I cry out to him, my fingers nearly wrapping around a chain-

He spirals. Out of sight. My legs trip over the other, and I fall. Splash! I feel the cold, ice-cold, dark water submerging my hands and my feet. No! I punch my hand into the water. The water splashes and wets my face. No! I cry. I cry, and I cry and I cry. Tears spill out, pour out. As if no matter how much tears were produced, the basket would always be full. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why can't I reach him? Why...why can't I save anyone?

"I'm...going home.." Even his voice sounds dead. Even his voice sounds dead. I hug him, refusing to let go.

James

It's like she's holding on. Trying to hold on. To keep me from breaking. To hold all the pieces of me together. To keep me from falling apart. She's begging me. Pleading with me to keep going. I see the tears that she's trying to fight back. But...there's nothing left to live for.

My hollow eyes find hers. She profusely shakes her head. "No, no!" Her arms tighten, until I can barely breathe.

"I'm walking you home," she whispers, and grasps my wrist.

Daisy

At his house, I unlock the door with the key in James' pocket. The door that looks so worn out, it is hanging on just the top hinge. The hinge and the doorknob are rusty, and when I push it open, the door creaks loudly in protest like I am disturbing it from its slumber.

Then I see a man. Or not really a man, but he looks older than us, quite a bit older. About in his early 20s. I don't know who he is or how he is related to James. But he has brown hair like James. He looks unkempt, his nails are long and his hair is messy. He has stubble on his chin that is long, but not quite long enough to form a beard just yet. He has prominent eye bags, like he didn't get enough sleep. The snake tattoo that crawls up his defined arms and the piercings all over his body makes me feel intimidated. I know that it is just a stereotype, but his blue eyes aren't warm or welcoming either. I swear I saw his eyes glint red.

"Who the hell are you?" He demands, like he is a policeman and I am in his interrogation room. Actually, more like he is a gangster and I am intruding in his personal business. I gulp, and take a step back.

I am about to say something, but James pulls out of my weakened grip and goes into his room.

Aaron

The door creaks open. James is home early, which is not like him

"James, we're..." My voice fades. I see a young girl step in, dragging James inside. Her eyes...they're red... and puffy. It's like she's been crying for weeks. Her hair is fuzzy and all over the place. James...James never looked more...lifeless. It's as if his skin has a tinge of grey. When I look into his eyes, I feel like I'm falling in darkness, a never ending pit of darkness. He is a zombie. No, worse; a ragged doll.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask her. Wouldn't have been anyone elses' choice of words if some girl brings their brother in looking like that. But it is my choice of words because she is bringing in my brother, looking like that. She either did something to him, or knows what happened to him.

Before she can speak, James totters to his room and closes the door. Her eyes widen and she starts shaking so much she can't seem to breathe properly. The girl pounds on his door, and repeatedly tries to twist the handle open. But he locked it. I thought that she would give up after a while, but she does it again and again until she's bleeding. I immediately put my hand on top of hers, and use my strength to pull her away from the door. It isn't easy being gentle and pulling her away at the same time.

"Stop, the doors locked. Leave him alone, he needs space," I repeat it over and over, until she finally calms down. I lead her towards the sofa, when she reaches it, she collapses. What the hell happened? Why is she so desperate to get him out of that room? Why is James... Why is he pale again?

I check my watch. I really need to go to work soon... If I don't go to work, my boss will fire me. If I don't go to work, I will need to get another job. I will need to worry about the rent all over again, even when we're already moving. But her body is trembling. She's sniffing. I sigh, and get up to get the first aid kit.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, while gently wrapping the bandage around her hands, even though I already know the answer to the question. All of a sudden, she straightens up, turns around and clasps my hands, clamping hers around mine. Her eyes are round and teary.

"Please...please...keep an eye on him..." Her watery brown eyes meet with mine. We stay like that for a while, before I push her hands off and continue to treat them. She looks worried that I haven't given her a reply. Her only concern is for him.

"I'll make sure he doesn't even think of doing anything stupid," I reassure her, and awkwardly pat her back. She suddenly leans on me for a hug, and buries her head in my shoulder. Don't worry...I promised to do everything I could to prevent him from falling down the rabbit hole. No one else deserves it. No one else deserves to suffer. She pulls away after a while and rubs her eyes. I've lost the motivation to work. I pull out my phone to call my boss, and I ask for a day off. He approves, surprisingly.

"Hey, you should stay for dinner. I'll order pizza," I tell her, now dialling the delivery numbers on my phone.

"Okay..." She heads to use the bathroom. I open my wallet, only to find a measly 50 bucks. God. It should be enough...but only for tonight. I need to work harder. I should've just...headed to work. The girl would be enough to look after him. I stare down at my wallet, as if burning a hole in it would replenish it, and there would magically be enough money to keep us in this place. I think about it, I think about her. I see her, and I look down at the blood on my hands. The blood I can't wash off.

I can't breathe...The floodgates open, the water sweeping me off my feet. I stumble into my room and shut the door, my hand itching. I'm washed under. Bubbles forming, coming out of my mouth. Deeper. And deeper. You're worthless. A loser. Even your own brother hates you, can't you tell? It's your fault that he has to move out of this place, the place he called home with Mum, when he doesn't even want to. You are making him leave behind the only piece of her left. What kind of brother are you?... What kind of brother am I? I'm the worst kind. I am the worst brother to ever exist. I'm the worst brother alive. I don't deserve to be called his brother. I'm a terrible, horrendous guardian. It is my fault my mother passed. I can't even do I can't do anything. I deserve to die. I couldn't save her I couldn't save I can't save mother brother father save help want help save hate love hate you hate brother love loser disgusting worthless lonely loser mother brother can't do anything want hate love brother mother disgusting worthless atrocious ugly useless dreadful horrendous worthless

SHUT UP! Blood. Everywhere. My heartbeat has skyrocketed. Plip...plip...Perspiration dripping down my chin, my shirt pressed to my back. Huff...huff...huff... Pain. Pain is always, always, the thing that brings me back. Fighting fire with fire. Ironically it's the pain that brings me into focus, and not pain that pulls me away from focus. Shit. The floor is stained with red liquid. I snatch my towel and press it against my shoulder. I kick the box out from under my table and pull the bandage around my shoulder, before securing it with a safety pin. Shit. Blood splotches are on my shirt. Can't let the girl see this. I change out of my shirt and the doorbell rings. I swiftly wear my jacket and head outside. Her eyes are glued to me. I take and pay for the food.

"Why are you wearing a jacket?" she asks. Her eyes look right through me, like an x-ray. Fuck.

"I find it cold," It is the lamest excuse, and she'll see right through it. She knows. I know that she knows. Fuck. I can't think. Why can't I think of a better excuse?

"But it's scorching hot," she says, rightfully so. But I still wish I could clamp her mouth shut. It's not even her fault. I don't... I...

"I find it cold," I repeat my answer like a broken recorder because I still can't think of anything else. I don't want to give her the truth. She's too young. My brother finding out the truth was already too much. It was already my worst nightmare. He shouldn't have to face any of this. He shouldn't have to go through any of it.

"You're drenched in sweat," She's too persistent. She needs to stop. I... I don't want to burden her... I don't want to give her the reality of the world so soon. She's just a kid.

"I said. I. Find. It. Cold." I grit my teeth. She shuts her mouth and purses her lips, but eyes me suspiciously. I pretend like nothing happened and open the pizza box.

"Call James, now," I sent her away to his room, hoping that it would distract her, even if for a little while. What I did not hope for was to hear an ear-shattering screech.

"JAMES!"

Daisy

The moment I opened the door, my eyes fell to the ground. His body sprawled on the floor.

"JAMES!"

I flounder into the room, my knees hitting the floor. His eyes are closed. He's out, cold. An empty pill bottle rolling away from his hand. No, no, no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. This cannot be happening. This can't be happening. No. Please. Stop it, Daisy, focus! There is no time! I grab his wrist and feel for his pulse. It's still there. It's still there. There's hope. His chest is rising and falling. It's alright. He'll be alright. He'll be okay. He will be okay. I shakily place my right hand over my left and start doing compressions on his chest. One, two. One, two. One, two. Wake up! Please...Wake up! His brother is as white as a ghost. He isn't doing anything, standing there like a statue.

"Call the ambulance! Hey!" I scream at him. His hands are so shaky his phone can't keep still, frustration built up within me watching him. I snatch his phone from his hands. I don't know how I manage to dial the three numbers, 995, but I do.

It felt like forever. One, two. One, two. Why isn't the ambulance arriving? One, two. Why isn't he waking up? One, two. I should've knocked down his door! One, two. What if it is too late? One, two. Wake up... please. Please... One, two. I felt his soul waning, along with his will to live. One, two. Please. Please...

The red lights finally flash through the window. Wee woo, wee woo! The doctors place an oxygen mask over James' mouth and nose and place him on a stretcher. Please...please let him be okay... Please... The ambulance feels like it is going slower than a snail. His guardian looks like he is going to puke at any given moment. I should've... I should've knocked down that door. I should've known that he was quiet for too long. I should've checked on him instead of badgering his guardian about why he was wearing a jacket

I stare at James' chest, barely rising and falling, as all the 'I should have' s flood my mind.

Please don't go. Please...

I don't know what I'd do without you.