Page 91 of Voices

I walk through the doors and onto the waiting elevator, lost as to what just happened. Who the fuck was that guy and how does he know what high school I went to? And where does he get off saying all that about Charlie? The plague? Really?

I’m still replaying what happened as the elevator doors open. I rub my hand over the front of my sore neck as I step out andwalk to Charlie’s door. I’m so in my head that I don’t notice that his door is wide open until I walk up to it with my fist raised.

He always has his door closed and locked.

“Charlie?” I call as I step through the doorway. There’s music coming from his room but it’s not obnoxiously loud like he likes it when he works. “Baby?” I call out again stepping into his room. It looks the same as it did this morning but there’s no Charlie.

I hear something hit the tile floor in the bathroom. I open the door and stop as my heart sinks at the sight in front of me.

Charlie is sitting against the wall in nothing but his boxer briefs, hair a tangled mess with one hand yanking on it, his other has a bloody razor blade that he flips between his fingers. There’s a puddle of blood on the floor under his bent legs.

I swallow as I take a slow step towards him. He doesn’t seem to notice me as I make my way closer. I sit across from him and gently place my hands on his ankles. He doesn’t show any sign of feeling my hands on him as I slowly slide them up until I get to his knees. There are dried bloody fingerprints on his knees and across the top of his thighs.

“Charlie, baby. Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

I take a steadying breath as I look into his eyes. They’re glossed over and the golden flecks have been replaced with a darker gold color. I stroke the side of his face, but he doesn’t look at me. His hand in his hair has a death grip making it next to impossible to get it to open. I move on to the razor he’s still flipping between his fingers. I slide my hand from his elbow to his wrist and slowly wrap my fingers around his slim wrist. Holding his arm steady, I use my other hand to pull the razor from his fingers. He doesn’t put up a fight and blinks a few times.

“Baby.” I swallow thickly as he shakes his head and grips his hair with both hands and starts to rock back and forth, chanting in a hushed voice.

“It’s okay, Charlie. I’m here. You’re safe.” I stroke his arms and try to calm him. I move so I’m next to him and pull him into my side so his head lays over my heart and wrap my arms around him as tightly as I can.

“Shhh…you’re alright, baby.” I kiss the top of his head and hold him to me as I tilt my head back against the wall and stare at the ceiling as I hold him in my arms as he battles his demons.

I hold him for a long time until his rocking finally stops.

I look down at him and see his mouth moving. I strain my ears to hear what he’s saying.

“…no good…stupid…just die…no good…stupid…just die…”

It’s fast and low but I’ve heard enough to know he needs help to get back to me.

“Please, beautiful. Listen to me. I’m here for you. I love you.”

I repeat that a few more times until his breathing starts to slow as his hands drop from his hair and he goes limp. I keep him in my arms for a few more minutes, collecting myself.

What happened to you baby?

He hasn’t had an attack like this before. The ones he experienced on his birthday were bad, but they didn’t include blood.

I stroke his matted hair as I look at his legs for the source of where the blood is coming from. I lift his leg and see two huge cuts going down the inside of his right thigh, one still bleeding. With a shaking hand, I lower his leg and hug him to me as a tear slides down my cheek and lands in his dark hair.

“Why? Please help me understand,” I whisper into the top of his head.

I kiss his hair as I look over the rest of his pale body. I don’t see anything until I get to his sharp hip bone where there’s nowa bruise that wasn’t there earlier. I lightly brush my thumb over it as I fight off more tears.

Grabbing the towel off the hook, I drape it over him. He doesn’t move as I slide out from under him and position myself so I can pick him up off the ground. Lifting him into my arms, I grab another towel out of the closet on my way to his room. I lay it down first then gently set his limp body on top.

I make sure he’s covered before darting back into the bathroom to find a first aid kit. I don’t find anything in the closet or the cabinet below the sink. Opening the cabinet behind the mirror, I’m shocked by the number of orange pill bottles that greet me. I look at each bottle and only recognize Xanax and Ambien. There’s a bottle on its side that’s empty with no label. I pick it up with a shaking hand and see white powder residue stuck on the bottom.

What the fuck?

I’ve never seen heroin in person but it’s the first white powder that comes to my mind.

No. This could literally be anything else, and I’ve spent almost every day with Charlie. I would have noticed if he was taking it. Right?

“Fuck!”

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