Unworthy (26 page)

     “You know what you want to do.”

     “You know what you need to do.”

     “Do it, just do it.” I wipe away my tears and try to drown out the voice in my head as I try to concentrate on the headlines in front of me.

SAMUEL HARDING’S NEW SLUT.

It has been brought to our attention and the attention of other publications across the world that one of the most eligible bachelors of the world has been taken off the market by none other than a woman who works in a bar where the employees work in nothing but underwear and dance, strip for money. As with everyone else around the world we are left thinking why?

WILL MOMMY AND DADDY BE PROUD?

What will the Harding Family think of their only son’s new choice of woman? This young man has his family’s destiny on his young shoulders and a workforce that will depend on him making the right choices so they can feed their families... He needs a woman to help him make those decisions and looking at these pictures I and my team highly doubt this Grace Ford will offer the support he will need.

SHE SCREAMED RAPE.

We’ve found out that she had a sexual affair with her stepbrother at the age of fourteen. The young man in question has said that Harding’s new girl forced him to give up his virginity. She never used protection so two months later she found out she was pregnant and decided to throw her boyfriend to the dogs. She told her mother, Mrs. Ford, that her stepbrother had raped her. What have the Harding’s got themselves into?

WATCH OUT, MR HARDING, YOU COULD BE NEXT.

Let’s be honest, while looking at this woman’s track record she is bound to pull the same thing on Mr. Harding. We can only hope that he is smart enough to get rid of her before the witch can destroy him and his family.

WHAT DOES HE SEE IN HER?

Considering who he has been seen with before why is he with her? Let’s be honest she is very pretty, but she is nothing special, she’s very ordinary.

FAT, UGLY AND POOR.

What does he see in her?

She nothing special to look at

I looked at all those words, all the words that have been said to me, all the words I myself have thought as I pull and release at my band. The hurt I inflict on my wrist does nothing to lessen the hatred I have for myself, it normally works, but not today.

     “It won’t help, you know what you need.”

     “Get it, go on, get it.”

     “Release all the hatred, it’s the only way.”

Today the hatred is so bad that nothing can help me, nothing can bring me out of the hurt I feel at myself. The hatred I feel at the world for not allowing me to succeed in at least something. I want to do it, I know I have the strength within myself to do it, but my family had to go ruin it for me. They couldn’t let me have the happiness that I deserve. I tried, I’ve really tried and I can’t do it, they won’t let me do it. I failed, I failed at the one job I was sure I could do. To better my life. I mean I had a bloody plan and it’s gone to shit.

     “Go get it, go get it, make it all better.”

My mother was right, I can’t do anything right, I’m useless, worthless. I love a man who won’t want to touch me now that I have given him and his family bad press.

What’s the point?

Who will miss me?

No-one.

No-one will miss me.

     “You’re right, you know you’re right, just go get it and make everyone happy.”

My mother was right; I’m just a worthless piece of shit.

I’m a waste of life.

I’m all alone and no-one will miss me.

    “Go get it, go get a knife.”

At this point I’m so fazed and angry at myself that I listen to the sounds in my head and I go straight for the kitchen drawer that’s on the side of Samuel’s apartment and go for the sharpest knife he owns. The silver instrument looks so inviting, I could do it, just slice the knife along the vein on the inside of my arm.

     “Do it, do it.”

     “No-one wants you, you’re worthless.”

I place the tip at my wrist and I watch the way the silver looks against my pale skin. I should do it, I’m no use to anyone, I may as well do the world a favor and end it now before I can do any more damage.

     “Do it, just bloody do it.”

     “It will make everything better.”

I don’t want to hurt anymore, I just want it to end, and I don’t want to feel worthless anymore. I’m tired, I’m so tired of the way my life is going. I can feel all my tears pouring down my face as I find it so hard to control my emotions. I push the tip of the knife into my skin just as I can hear the banging on the door.

     “Grace!”

     “Go on, do it, you stupid bitch. You don’t want to hurt him any further.”

I try to drown out the voice in my head, but she is so loud confirming everything I have ever felt. She’s tempting me to do it, reminding me of the release I can get out of doing what she says. There’s so much noise and my head and heart both hurt with everything they are trying to digest and in the background I can just make out Samuel’s scared voice.

     “Grace, open the door.”

     “Grace.”

     “Fucking open the door, Grace!”

The banging is getting loader and I can hear and feel the vibrations coming through the door. I’m messing him around, I’ve messed him up and I am so embarrassed. I fall to the floor, resting my back against the unit, still clutching the knife in my hand. My best friend, this knife is my best friend and I’m going to use it to make it all better. I have to make it all better; I can’t live like this any more.

     “That’s right, just do it now, before he opens the door.”

     “Grace!”

     “Grace! Fucking open this door right now!”

     “Grace!”

     “Grace!”

I push the blade a little further into my skin till I can see blood pool at the side and try to break it through the skin on my back of my arm just as the door bangs open. The voice has left me, leaving me now all on my own just as I push the tip in a little further. Just as I see a little more blood I can see Samuel kneel before me as I feel his hands around my own.

     “Grace, look at me.”

     “Grace, please look at me.” I can’t seem to stop my shaking and my whole body just seems so cold.

     “Grace, can I have the knife please.”

I look up into his eyes and I can see the tears pool in his beautiful eyes. He looks utterly destroyed and lost and I know I have brought that look to his handsome face. I can’t look at him any longer and I look back down to the knife as its tip stays glued to my arm, forcing more blood to flow as I attempt to press harder. I can feel Samuel’s hand tighten around mine as I try harder to push the tip further into my skin, but I can’t do it. Samuel’s stopping me from hurting myself any further and at the realization that I can’t even do this I cry harder, the tears freefalling down my cheeks as I continue to look at the knife.

     “Grace.”

     “Grace, can I have the knife.” I know what he is trying to do, but I can’t let go, I can’t look at the sad expression on his face knowing that I’m the reason it’s there. I want it all to end. I can’t stand the hatred for myself any longer, but I can’t put the look on Samuel’s face that I know is still there.

     “Grace.”

     “I’m going to take the knife, OK?”

     “N….no, I need it.”

All of a sudden I can feel the pressure in my hand push deeper and I can feel more pain as the knife goes deeper into my flesh and the relief it gives me is so powerful that I try to do it more. I can feel the blood trickle down my arm as I watch it in contrast to my pale skin.

     “Grace, no, please, come on, let me take the knife.”

I can hear the emotion in his voice and as I look up into his face I can see the tears pooling in his eyes and I hate myself more.

     “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I try to say as I shake my head within the confines of his hold. He begins to rock his body back and forth humming a gentle tune to me as he does it.

     “It’s OK, Grace, it’s OK, I love you so much.” I hardly hear the words that he says as I feel myself get weak.

     “It’s OK.”

     “It’s OK, Grace.”

     “I’m going to take the knife away from you, OK?” I sense him take in a deep breath and then I can feel his fingers loosen around mine as a couple of his fingers gently take mine and release my fingers from the knife.  

     “It’s alright, Grace.” He says to me as he gently kisses my forehead.

     “It’s alright. It’s alright now.” He whispers to me as I feel him gently move me onto his lap and I let him do it, I’m too weak to stop him anyway. I want to feel the comfort that only he can give me; I want to feel him make it all better. I know he can’t, but I like the thought that he can try. And that must be the last thought that goes through my head before everything goes black.

CHAPTER THIRTY

SAMUEL

     I can feel Grace grow weaker in my arms, but I can feel her chest rise and fall against my arm so I know she is still alive. I don’t think she was able to push the knife in too far, but there is still a lot of blood and I’m sure she will need stitches.

Why did she do it? Why did she have to hurt herself?

Thank God I phoned for an ambulance as soon as I saw her run off, I knew she was going to do something stupid the moment my father showed us the newspaper clippings, but I never thought she would have done something like this. As I hold her in my arms I can’t help, but feel angry at her but then I remember the reason why she ran off in the first place.  I feel so mad. How could they write things like that without knowing the truth?  I know she hasn’t told me everything, but I know the woman I love and I know she wouldn’t be like they are portraying. The woman I love, I love her, I love Grace and it’s about time I let her and the world know it. I don’t care about her past; it’s what makes her so amazing. I look down at the woman I love just as someone comes through my front door who wears an ambulance uniform.

     It seems to happen so quickly, I don’t know if it’s just the fact that I am in a daze, but soon the ambulance crew have Grace strapped to a stretcher with a mask over her nose and mouth and I have never been so scared and unable to do anything. What if I could have stopped her, what if I could have gotten in the room sooner, there are so many what ifs racing through my head that I can’t begin to decipher them. The only thing I really know is that she is in danger and there is nothing I can do to help, I have to just stand here and do nothing as others try to help. Stand here like a fucking lemon as so many thoughts continue to race through my head and I am unable to control them.

What if she has done herself too much damage? I’m sure she hasn’t, I’m sure she hasn’t lost too much blood, but what if I got it wrong. I feel the sickness take over my body as I think of what it would be like without her in my life, my life would be nothing without her. Grace has left such an imprint in my soul that there is no mistaking her hold on me. If she doesn’t survive than I can’t survive, it is as simple as that. She is the very air I breathe, the reason my heart beats and I can’t live without her. The fact that I have been living the last twenty eight years without her with me makes me wonder how I could do it. I wasn’t doing it though, I just went through the motions till I saw her that night walking out of the subway and she made me come alive, she made my heart beat for the first time. I take a look at her again and I can’t help, but notice how she still looks so beautiful just lying there as if she hasn’t a care in the world as they begin to carry her to the elevator. Just as it opens I see my father and uncle step out of it and I feel a sense of relief. I’m a grown man, but right now I need the support and love of my father to be able to survive this. I’m only human and I need help to get through this, she tried to kill herself and as the words begin to repeat themselves in my head I feel the water pool in my eyes.

     “What happened?” The words are going over and over in my head, but I can’t say them, if I say them then it will be true. Right now, as much as I can hear them if I don’t say it perhaps it won’t be true and I will wake up from the nightmare that seems to be controlling my existence.

     “Samuel. What happened, son?” I look to them both just as the doors of the elevator close taking my love into the unknown and I can feel the tears run down my cheeks.

     “S…she.” I rarely cry or become emotional so my father and uncle know something is very wrong as they watch me. I take a deep breath as I wonder how to even start this conversation.

     “She tried to commit suicide. Suicide, Dad, how could she do that?”

     “I don’t know, son, but we best get you to the hospital.”

     The whole afternoon just seems to go by in a blur. My father drives like a bat out of hell as he tries to get to the hospital as quickly as he can. I am aware that he is talking on speakerphone to someone at the hospital, but I am too far into my world of pain to really understand what is being said.