A Burning Poison

Written in response to: Write a story where hard work doesn’t pay off.... view prompt

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Sad Suspense

This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.

The hot water poured down my body, stinging my skin. I opened my eyes and was transported back to my shower. Where I had gone, I couldn’t tell you. I never wanted to leave this boiling safety. I focused on my breathing, re-directing my consciousness back to reality. The only sound was the water droplets falling on my body and bouncing onto the shower floor. The sudden vibration of a distant message brought me even further back into reality. I pulled back the shower curtain and grabbed my phone, reading the text message I had just received. Reading Cara’s name made my breath stagger. It was like second nature now to expect the worst of her. The text read-

heyyy i’ve had a hard week, can we facetime real quick?

My lungs were on fire. I wanted to scream. 

No, no, no, no, no…

I quickly rinsed the soap off my body and turned off the water. Wrapping myself in a towel, I took my phone and rushed out of my bathroom, the steam releasing from the room. My fingers fumbled as I tried to dial Cara’s number, but the water dripping from my body made that seemingly impossible. Finally, I was able to press the call button and heard the all too familiar ring. I waited for her to pick up, fearing the worst. Cara was like a poison. Only those closest to her knew the pain she suffered from. More often than not, though, that pain would transfer to those around her. It was worth wondering if Cara herself was a living embodiment of the phrase, “You are your own worst enemy.” 

“Sarah?”

I sighed. 

Hi Cara.

Hey girl. 

Her voice was shaky.

Hey, is everything alright?

Yeah, I’m just a little rattled.

What’s going on?

Oh, I’m just not feeling too good.

Well, why don’t you talk me through it? What’s going on?

I just- Cara looked away. I’m just doing bad.

Did something happen?

She was quiet.

Cara, are you alright?

Yeah, I just had a little accident.

My heart sank. I felt crushed.

Are you okay?

I don’t know… yeah, I think I’m fine. 

Are you hurt?

The sound of her cries filled the call’s silence.

“Just a little,” she whimpered. 

What did you do?

I just have had a hard week.

How bad is it, are you alright?

Cara turned the camera to her body, revealing the fresh cuts on her skin. I felt like I was going to throw up. I shuttered and felt myself tearing up. I hadn’t seen the physical cuts before that moment, and the bright red scarring looked like she had been tortured. Truthfully, I wasn’t too far off. This mental torture had been going on for almost a year. I had been with her, every step of the way. These late-night calls, the endless crying- I didn’t know what to do anymore. She was torturing herself, a pain only she thought was killing her. What she didn’t know, was that it was slowly killing me as well.

Cara…

I know, I know, but it’s really not that bad. I just had a bad day. A bad moment is all. I’m seriously feeling much better.

You need…you need help…

I know, but I’m okay, I swear I’m fine.

You’re not fine! 

I started to cry.

No, Sarah, it’s okay.

I’m begging you, please get help. You can’t keep doing this.

I- 

Please, I’m begging you. I’ll never ask you of anything ever, just this. Please.

I’m sorry.

No, Cara, you can make it up to me. Just get help. Please, just do this for me.

I swear I will.

No, right now. Go check yourself in somewhere. Anywhere. Tonight.

Tonight?

I nodded.

No, I can’t do it tonight. 

You have to, please. It’s just going to get worse, don’t you understand? You need professional help.

I’m done for the night, I swear I’m not-

Not what? You’re a danger to yourself, you can’t deny that.

I’m not denying that what I’ve done is bad, but I swear I’m alright now.

Stop lying to me.

I was growing angry.

I’m not lying to you!

She was crying again.

You have an addiction.

I am NOT an addict. That’s insane.

Then what do you call this? Because from my understanding, you are the farthest thing from clean.

I’m not a fucking drug addict. I can’t just be clean.

You are not clean, you have to admit that. 

I don’t have to admit shit.

Cara, you’re too smart to let this kill you.

Stop talking about me like I’m dangerous!

“What do you not understand?” I cried.

I’m not bad enough to be an addict, Sarah.

You’re in denial.

I am not in fucking denial and I do not have an addiction.

Please, Cara, I’ll do anything.

You have to understand that this needs to stop.

I’m okay, please Sarah you’ve got to understand.

For a year I’ve been telling you the same thing. That this needs to stop. I’m begging you. Please get help. Please. Please.

I- I just can’t do this anymore. I’m really sorry.

Cara went to hang up. I screamed for her to stop, but it went quiet. She had ended the call. 

I was brought back to my nightly torture of burning my skin with the hot water in the shower. Was I to a slave to pain? Certainly, it was different from Cara’s suffering. I thought back to how each day I looked forward to the moment when I could feel the sizzling liquid pierce my skin. How I could finally breathe in all the steam. I couldn’t think of her, I couldn’t think of anyone. All I could feel was my breath leaving my body- it bounced off the hot water and caressed my face. 

I felt like time had passed so quickly. All my efforts, everything I had done to help her… it hadn’t worked. I knew I couldn’t help her if she didn’t want to help herself, but it felt like a sin to continue to watch her suffer. I was the only one she had, it wasn’t like I could leave her. It almost felt selfish. She was poisoning herself, gradually. Slowly. So that it wouldn’t hurt when she finally accomplished what she had set out to do. It was like I couldn’t let her go. That if she was going down, I was going down with her. Because the more she harmed herself, the more the water burned.

March 11, 2022 13:42

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