3 weeks later
I walked into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. When I looked at myself I saw a
stranger. My hair was messed up, there
were tearstains all over my face, stubble on my chin. My eyes were a dull color blue, and my face was as white as the
color of my wife beater.
I was going nuts just sitting in this house. I couldn’t take it anymore. You ask why? The
guys are having fun on tour when I'm stuck here pulling my hair out watching
them. I haven’t heard one word from them for the past three weeks but then
again why would they want to call a trader?
An idea formed in my head.
If I did it no one would care, not the guys, not the fans, not my
family. I pulled open my cabinet and
found a package of razor blades I hadn’t opened yet. I opened the package and took one of the razor blades into my
hand. I twirled it around in my
fingers.
This thought of suicide always ran through my mind, and now
I had the opportunity to do it. I
placed the cold edge of the razor to my wrist as I stopped for a second and
took a deep breath. Was this right?
Of course it’s right. This is what you always wanted to do, Nick. Go ahead and do it. No one will care. There will be no tears shed for you, my conscience said, as I shook my head and gripped the razor
blade.
I closed my eyes as I pushed the razor blade
into my flesh. My skin started to burn
as blood trickled down my arm and landed in a puddle on the floor next to my
feet. My grip on the razor blade loosened as I heard it clatter on the floor.
I finally realized what I did when a wave of
nausea ran through me. I grabbed a
towel and wrapped it tightly around my wrist as I made my way towards the
doorway, and another wave of nausea came upon me.
I lost my balance and held onto the wall and
closed my eyes as I stood against the wall.
I open my eyes a few seconds later and felt a pain run through my arm.
I made my way towards the phone and picked it
up as I started to feel dizzy. I dialed
a few numbers and closed my eyes hoping the person I was calling was home. The phone rang a few times before someone
picked up.
Hang up Nick! You don’t need him! my conscience said, as I shook my head again.
“Hello?” I heard Brian’s voice ask.
“H…help me Brian,” I said my voice barley a
whisper.
“Nick! What’s wrong?” he asked as I gripped the
phone in my hand and tried to get my words out.
“I’m bleeding,” I said as a pounding pain came
to my head.
“OK, hold on, Nick. I’ll get you help,” Brian said, as I fell to the ground, and my
world went black.