He could see the destruction he left in the wake of his anger. His kitchen looked like it had been raided by thieves, except nothing was missing. Broken glass, coffee, and alcohol covered the floor. The combined scents were enough to make anyone turn up their nose in disgust. Under his head, he could feel the remains of what was once a chair, now broken into pieces.
Again, he tried moving. His head felt as though it was getting ready to explode. Throbbing, searing pain raced across his forehead to the back of his head. He couldn't tell if it was from the booze, or from the fall. With his right hand, he made an attempt to move, but the pain from what appeared to be a broken hand ripped through him, stealing the breath from his lungs. He coughed, desperate for air.
He tried again to move, this time using his left hand. That seemed to be okay. He inspected himself this time, trying to take count of his injuries. Gently he reached for his broken hand, caressing it lightly. It was swollen, and at his wrist, seemed to be disfigured. Running up the length of the rest of his arm, nothing else seemed to be injured. He slowly moved his hand to the back of his head. Dried blood, matted his hair. Great, he had to go and fracture his skull. He tried to let out a grunt, but pain ripped through his ribs. He probably fractured those too. At a loss for what to do, he made an attempt so search out a phone.
He remembered that he had emptied his pockets in his bathroom. Of course, right? How was he going to get to it? Holding his breath, he flipped himself onto his stomach. Dizziness overwhelmed him. His head, exploded reminding him of his injuries. Muscling strength from deep inside, he got to his knees. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to stop. But he knew he needed to call for help. Inch by inch, Jeremy crawled to his bathroom. Each movement he made, his body objected. After what seemed like hours of torture, he made it to the bathroom.
Jeremy, still on his knees, reached with his good hand for his phone, his right hand protesting wildly at the added weight he placed on it. The pain, It was so intense that he vomited. With a quick swipe, he managed to knock his cellphone to the floor. Moving away from his vomit, just slightly he laid himself back down on his stomach.
Trying to recollect himself, he reached out for his phone. Struggling to see the images on the screen, he opened up his recent calls menu. The first name that popped up was, Andrew. Jeremy touched his name, and hit send. It felt like eternity, listening to the phone ring, when Andrew finally answered.
"Hey, buddy! What are you wearing?" Andrew answered, jokingly.
"Drew.... I need your help.... come to my house.... doors unlocked...." Jeremy replied, his words barely escaping from his lips. He wasn't even sure Andrew would be able to hear him.
"Dude, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Andrew asked, his voice showing his concern.
"Just... get here... soon.." Jeremy replied, his voice sounding distant, and pained.
"Alright, we're coming. Hold tight buddy." Andrew said, hanging up the phone.
Jeremy felt tired. Tired from the pain, both emotional and physical. He hoped Andrew would get there soon. As much as he hated to have anyone see him like this, he knew he needed help. He fought to stay awake. But there seemed to be no fighting the darkness that was consuming him. Maybe he would just close his eyes, yeah that would help. He laid his head on the cold bathroom floor. His body, still unclothed from the shower he had, who knows how long ago. He could still feel chills of ice, right down to his bones.
His mind flashed with the memories of the letter that Sammy had wrote. Tears began to fill his eyes. She would hate the man he had become. He could see nothing but the look of disappointment on her face. He wished things were different. He wished he was stronger, most of all he wished that he would die along with her. He cringed at that thought. He didn't want to die. His family would be devastated. He couldn't willingly do that to them. Heck, if they even knew what his life was turning into now, they would be destroyed. He had been trying his hardest not to let his Mom, and brother see how self destructive he had become. All they knew, was that he was coping with the loss of his friend and partner. He frowned as he thought about the fact that his friend, Andrew was about to see him at his worst. He would understand though. He, and Dawn were the only ones that would understand. They all saw the same things.
Time seemed to be moving so slowly. How long had it been since he placed the call to Andrew? God, it felt like hours. In the distance he could hear sirens wailing, the sound of a diesel engine crept closer, and closer. Jeremy panicked. Shit, he didn't want the ambulance! He could not let anyone else see him like this! He tried to get up, but was quickly reminded that he couldn't. He heard a knock on his door, followed by Andrew's voice. He listened as his front door opened. The sound of footsteps got louder, and louder as they approached him. Andrew yelled for Jeremy, seeking him out. Jeremy tried to respond, but his voice was weak.Then, all was silent. Andrew was there, standing over him.
"Holy Shit. Dawn, in here I found him!" Andrew shouted. "Buddy, you're going to be alright. We got you."
STAY TUNED FOR "The Downward Spiral- Part 5"
Written by: RU- Responders Unite
© Responders Unite- Do not remove author's name from material.
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