4
Dawn awoke choking and gagging.
"Wha—?"
She was wet—totally soaked—up to her chin in water—pinkish water—
She bolted upright and raised her arm. The cut on her wrist hadn't like healed or anything, but it had stopped bleeding. Maybe a little oozy trickle, but nothing of any consequence.
A while ago she'd felt herself weakening, so when she'd closed her eyes she'd thought she was slipping away. But she guessed all she'd done was doze off.
She looked around. She was alone, but somehow she didn't feel alone. Like someone was here—or had just been here.
Come to think of it, she'd had a vague sense of someone standing beside the tub looking down at her just before she'd come fully awake. She straightened in the tub. And the feeling of a hand on her head, pushing her down…
But that was crazy. No one was here, and no one besides herself was trying to hurt her. In fact, when her lips sank beneath the surface it had awakened her and—
Then she realized the truth and screamed and slammed her hands against the bloody water.
Failed again. What a total loser! Might as well paint a big red L on her forehead. God, she hated herself more than ever now.
She looked around for the razor blade. Where was it? She'd show them.
When she couldn't find it, she tried to pull herself to standing but fell back in the tub, sloshing water all over the place. So weak. She must have gotten like halfway to dead. Just a little ways to go. If she could find the blade she could finish the job.
Then she saw it, lying on the bottom of the tub. She reached for it, but stopped.
Who was she kidding? No way she was going to cut herself again. It hurt too much.
She began to cry—huge racking sobs that rippled the water around her. She had to end this. She had to find a way. And then she knew.