Page 15 of Lay Me Down
As I push it open and storm in, my eyes are automatically drawn to the horrific sight in the living room, bringing me to a halt… There’s broken glass and what appears to be a liquid across the floor… Zeke is dangling, and his body thrashes as he hangs from a taut rope. His eyes meet mine and widen, showing a thousand emotions all at once before his body spins and turns them from view… Small grunts and gasps make their way to my ear, instantly snapping me back and pushing me forward again.
“Zeke!” My heart pounds as forceful as a horse’s sprint as I run inside, ignoring the glass and what smells like whiskey as I dart over to him. My first thought is to grab onto him, so that’s immediately what I do—throwing my arms around him like I’ve been yearning to do for the past week and a half. I try to lift him up, but between his weight, and his twitching, I'm not near strong enough…
I’m not strong enough.
Adrenaline floods me, and the edges of my vision start to blur along with the thoughts in my head. I have to act quickly. Quick.Think. Think. What do I do?!My muscles are straining under his weight, but I hold on as tight as I can and lift, willing to do anything to keep my brother alive.
As I look up to assess him, I trail the rope’s position to the beam just above him, and I don’t immediately notice an easy way to untie it. I scour the room frantically, trying to find anything that I could use, when a small glint catches my eyes. My gaze snaps to the coffee table and locks onto Zeke’s knife. Doing a double take, just so I can be sure I can reach, I lunge for the knife and grasp it in my hand tighter than I’ve ever held anything else.
“Just hold on! I’m going to get you down!” I scream and jump onto the coffee table, silently praying that it holds my weight long enough to do what I need. Pressing as hard as I can to the thick, prickling twine, I begin sawing through the rope just above his neck—moving more hysterically as I realize his movements are slowing.
Please, please, please, please…
Once I’m about halfway through, the rope snaps and his motionless body falls to the ground, smacking the floor with a loud thud that rings out into the hallway. My knees finally give out as I step down, and I fall to the hardwoods beside him, clawing and ripping the rope away from his already-bruising neck. I plaster my hands to the side of his face and tilt his head back, noticing the slight blue tint to his lips.
“Zeke! Wake up! Please, don’t do this!” I pat his face, trying to wake him up, and when that doesn’t work, I try a little harder and smack him, but get the same result. A thought pops up into my head, and all I want is to yell for Ser or Damien. They would know what to do, but as tears finally start to stream from my eyes, I realize that they’re not here, and I’m all alone.
I’m alone…
Serena would keep her head in check and wouldn’t freak out until later, but I’m not her. I don’t have medical training, and I sure as hell have never dealt with someone else in this position. Normally, it’smethat needs medical expertise, and I’m not sure how to give it to someone else.
But someonelikeSer would know.
I shakily reach into my pocket, finally feeling like I’ve started to make some fucking sense, and scramble for my phone to dial 911. It only rings half a time before a woman with a monotone, calm voice answers.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Please send help! My brother tried to kill himself!” I yell, much louder than I anticipated, and I instinctively cover my mouth—not sure who I could possibly bother by my volume, and not really giving a shit, but I suppose it’s just an old habit that is resurfacing as I panic.
“What the hell is going on here?” A large man, wearing nothing but gym shorts and a tank top runs into the apartment, obviously hearing the commotion from the hall.
“I…” I finally move my hand from my mouth and swallow harshly, trying not to drool and spit all over the place. “Go find help…” I whisper out, and through a small gasp, as I find it hard to breathe. The man’s eyes widen, and he only nods once before sprinting back out of the apartment.
“Okay ma’am, I need you to stay calm. What’s the address of the emergency?” the woman speaks again, reminding me that I’m on the phone with help already, and I shake my head, barely registering what she said.
“Um….um….”I can’t fucking think...When my brain can’t seem to conjure up the address, I scour the room again, noticing a stack of envelopes on the table that now have my wet footprints tainting them. I reach back and snag a piece of mail, gripping it in my fist like it will somehow fix everything. “2592 Clay St. Apartment 4F.”
“Okay ma’am, we’re dispatching medical and police assistance now. You said tried? Is he still breathing?” That question pulls me from my daze, and I look back down to him. The air I suck in feels like hail, and it actually stings as I breathe. I don’timmediately notice his chest moving, and that makes my mouth quiver. My heart feels like it’s being thrown around my ribcage, and I can’t focus enough to tell.
“I don’t know…” My voice cracks as more tears run down my face, and I can’t help but sob as I try to tilt his head up more. He feels lifeless in my hands—practically dead weight. The dispatcher takes a deep breath, and her concerned sigh comes through the phone.
“Ma’am, remember to stay calm. What is your name?” she asks sweetly, like she’s asking a kid lost in a park.
“Ashia Hartley,” I mutter out. My last name flows freely and acts as my anchor.
“Okay, Ashia. I want you to put your ear next to his mouth and watch his chest. Tell me if you see or hear anything.” I nod, even though she can’t see me, and shakily do as she says. I almost bang my head into his face with how freaked out I am. After a couple of seconds, I hear the faint sounds of his breaths and the soft wisp of air brush against my cheek. I watch as his chest barely rises and falls, but the tiny motion lifts the room.
“I do, a little. But it’s not much.”
A relieved breath is what I hear from her next, and even her tone seems to brighten some.
“That’s okay. I'll let the paramedics know. They should be there soon. You're doing great, just stay as calm as you can. I'll stay on the phone with you until help arrives. Is he conscious?”
I shake my head, once again feeling stupid because she can’t see me moving.
“No.”
“Okay. Donotmove him, okay? The paramedics will need to assess him for injuries when they arrive.” Only about a moment after she speaks do I hear sirens coming from outside, and I'm instantly hit with a wave of liberation. A warmth finally sprinklesacross my skin, soothing some of the cold I’ve felt for the past…I’m not sure how many minutes.
