c36- please don't leave me

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-LINA'S POV-

After I left the room, I felt guilty and horrible however I knew I needed a minute to breathe, a minute to relax and a moment to compose myself to prevent me from saying something I would regret.

As I unlock the door, I take one more deep breath, ready to apologise for leaving him when he was sad, being mature and blablabla as I explained my views on our argument, whilst simultaneously comforting him after Missy' shocking reveal.

Easier said than done, I presume.

"Sin?" I call, dumping my bag on the ground (I brought a six pack of monsters at the shop, helps with withdrawals) and scanning the room.

I see five empty vodka bottles and numerous beer cans leading up to the kitchenette, which I walk over to.

Ohmigod.

"Sin!" I scream, dropping to the floor, avoiding the sick around his feet.

Alcohol poisoning.

For a moment I froze, remembering the times when I was younger, this terrifying moment giving me a blast from the past. But, Sin's not him. And he is far from Sin.

I turn him on his side in the recovery position as I dial 999, ignoring the bouncing of my leg and shaking of the hands.

"Your going to be okay, Sin, okay? You can't die on me, okay? You probably won't," I ramble, "but I reckon you'll have to get your stomach pumped."

I scan my eyes around the room, noticing more and more bottles of gin too. Jesus christ, how did he afford all this?

He's sweating like a pig and I tremble, frightened for him.

"It's okay Sin."

The phone finally connects me to the ambulance services after explaining the situation- or presumed situation. They tell me they're going to be fifteen minutes and I sigh, waiting impatiently as I keep him on his side.

"It'll be okay, I would kiss you but a your unconscious and you have a bit of sick in your mouth. Not exactly a turn on, eh?" I laugh, joking to his passed-out, lifeless-looking body that now rests against my thigh.

Not a kiss.

The idea of mouth to mouth springs to my mind and I give it a few tries (after wiping the sick of his mouth) from what I can remember from Health and Social Care in year eleven, but it's useless.

"Please don't leave me." I whisper, ignoring the water pooling in my eyes, stroking his face.

I may still be extremely pissed off about the things he's said, but right now, I don't know what to do.

When the paramedics come, they haul him into an ambulance, with me coming in the back, sitting with him.

He doesn't awake.

He doesn't awake.

He isn't awake.

They shove me out the room, they're talking and I can't hear, confidentiality, blablabla. I want to message Rhiannon, I want to get high but all I can do is sit, sit like a fucking stupid duck.

"What's going on?" I ask, grabbing a nurse and forcing her to talk to me.

She looks me up and down. "Relation to him?"

"I-" I pause, not sure how to answer the question, "I'm his, um, his roommate. I found him. Please, I need to know he's okay."

She shakes her head, forming her mouth into the fake smile they always do.

"Sorry ma'am, but I cannot give you the information without proof of relation."

"I swear to fucking god-" I yell, before someone pulls me back.

Missy wraps her arms around me. "Calm down, Catalina. This is all my fault, okay? He had a lot of alcohol because of me. What I told him, and what I lied about affected him a lot."

"Is he going to be okay?" I ask, pulling back, gnawing on my lip.

Missy pauses.

A pause.

"Missy, what aren't you telling me?"

She sighs, grabbing a tissue out her bag and handing it to me. "He's going to be in a medically-induced coma. The affects are bad and there was already too much alcohol etc in his system, not to mention his lack of sleep."

"W-What? He will wake up though, right?"

Another pause.

"Of course darling, everything will be okay, don't you worry about him." She says, patting my back, a fake smile masking the truth.

I nod, looking around at my surroundings, shuffling uncomfortably due to my strong hatred of hospitals. The freezing cold tension circulating through the ventilation, the wretched smell of death and the sight of too many crying family members sends goosebumps all over my skin, as though I was a Dalmatian or a young child with deadly chickenpox.

"I need to go. Keep me update. Please?" I tell Missy and she nods, hugging me once last time before letting me escape from these walls of mental torture.

A taxi driver escorts me home, aware of my lack of money but still driving me back to the boring college room.

I tidy up the bottles, the cans, the sick, feeling like a complete and utter fool. My PTSD is reaching insane levels as memories of doing this all my childhood dance through my brain, tormenting,taunting and teasing me.

"Catalina? Catalina, I swear to fucking god, where are you?" He yells after slamming the front door- probably another part of the house he's broken.

I wrap my arms round my knees, rocking back and forth in pure and utter terror. Fear is all I know as I peek through the gap of my wardrobe.

He's sweating like a pig, in one hand is a Smirnoff Vodka bottle, the other a beer can. He reeks of alcohol as he yells up the stairs one more time.

"Catalina! Come here, daddy wants to see his little girl. Come see daddy, he wants to see his little girl."

Silent. If I'm silent, he'll think I'm out.

"You didn't think you could hide from me forever, did you Catalina?"

My scream stops me from my moment of the past as I collapse to the floor, rocking like I did that night.

I need something strong and I need it now.

Leaving the room, I know I'm leaving something behind, but what- I'm not sure of. The change hits me though, it hits me hard.

I grab my phone and with shaky hands form a message to Patrick.

Catalina: yo what you got
Patrick: Hey Cat it's been ages. Come to my dorm, Brandon is out with baby momma as always xx
Catalina: see u

Putting my phone away, I change my direction to Patrick's room- it's a short walk and I arrive there with no time.

"Cat!" He welcomes me with a hug and I feel my body stiffen as I reluctantly pat him on the back before ending the embrace and entering his apartment.

"What brings you here?" He asks, looking me up and down with that disgusting smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes, sitting down as he hands me a lit zoot. "Sin's in a coma."

His jaw drops as I take a puff, my body instantly feeling more at ease, not much more but at least it's something.

"Shit, dude, that's..."

"Life," I finish his sentence for him, "it's life. Now, have you got anything stronger than this shit?"

He leans backwards, gesturing for me to hand him the zoot. I sigh but pass it over, instantly moving my fingers to the hairband on my wrist so they don't get bored.

"Are you sure your fit to, you know, get high?"

I cross my arms over my chest. "Jesus, what are you, a dealer or a therapist? Aren't you meant to encourage people to buy your shit?"

"Not if those people are my friends."

I scoff. "Don't flatter yourself, honey. This is purely business."

"Fuck off Cat."

A sarcastic smile overtakes my lips, but I bite it away and stare at a random stain on the floor in silence.

He lets out a sigh. "Your mad, babe, actually mad. What you thinking then? Pingers, snow, something else?"

"Honestly? I don't care. Your best shit, as long as it's at a decent price, don't be dumb enough to scam me."

He takes in my words before opening a draw and picking out a couple of baggies, handing them to me.

"Pay me tomorrow. You need this, you look a state, but just remember you owe me."

"I owe you." I echo, before taking the baggies appreciatively and leaving the room.

*****
The road I'm on seems so familiar. My brain can't recollect where I am, where it leads to or where I last  came here- until I see the sign.

This is the pub I went to with Sin. The day in the car park- a rough day, but I loved it.

It's the pub he works at. His work. Would his work have been informed?

My hands feel tingly yet numb at the same time; a weird yet sensational experience. The words on the sign lure me in as I speedily skip towards the pub doors, ignoring the fact it's the exit doors.

"It's Sin's girl! Cat, how you doing?" Zachary fist bumps me, a stupid gesture that people like him seem to do for fun.

I look him up and down, or at least try to as my eyes feel like they're rolling back and the colour of his skin turns to orange.

"Zachary." I nod, trying to walk away but he doesn't met me.

He shakes his head. "Your Sin's girlfriend, you can call me Zach."

"We aren't dating."

He raises an eyebrow, but coughs and continues.

"How is Sin? Last time I saw him he wouldn't shut up talking about you. He's a good guy, don't hurt him, okay?"

"For fucks sake, we aren't dating," I snap, before muttering, "anyways it's hard to date someone on fucking life support."

"What?" His jaw drops, his face filling with anxiety, his words fuelled with fear and concern.

I smile. "Lovely Sin is in a lovely coma. Funny, right?"

I giggle as I wonder if Sin can see smurfs like I do now. Maybe he's having fun in the coma, in the medically induced coma (what's wrong with just saying coma?). Or maybe he isn't.

Maybe he misses me like I miss him.

"Not exactly. Come sit down, I'm on my break anyway."

Zach guides me to an area outside specifically for staff, which gets one old hag really riled up about me being back there but I just tell her to bite me and she fucks off.

If Zach suspects my sobriety then he doesn't mention it, either he's stupid or respects my business- he gives the vibes where it's probably both.

"So, that's a lot of shit. Poor Sin." Zach says after I explain some of the situation to him, not wanting to disclose anything too personal.

I nod, looking at some butterfly resting on a leaf not far behind him.

"Yeah. Life's shit."

He agrees, placing his hand on mine. "You're okay though, right? I love Sin man, he's a great guy and all, if you need anything then-"

I lean forward and kiss him, but the taste isn't as sweet as expected and it isn't what my lips crave.

"The fuck, man?"

What the fuck did I just do?

"I'm- I'm sss-s-sorry," I hiccup, "it's the drugs. I can't - I cannot help this. I didn't mean to."

"Shhh, it's okay. Let's get you home, Cat, let's get you home."

He explains to his boss where he is going, grabbing an ice cold bottle of water for our journey back. He lends me a jacket belonging to the lost and found (it's been washed however) and keeps a steady hand on my back as he walks me to his car.

"He'll cone back to you, Catalina, don't you worry."

"He'll come back." I murmur, echoing his words as a yawn and fall into the back seat.

~~~~~~

all i will say is:

:(

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