You Saved Me

Katie's POV: When I get home, I walk inside, and go straight to Dahive to tell him what happened to his motorcycle. It's not bad, mainly just a scuffed up paint job, but to my surprise, he doesn't even care about the bike, whatsoever. He's more concerned I got hurt during all this, but I assure him I'm fine, and we move on.
"Is that your promise ring?" Red asked, when we walk back into the living room, and sit down on the sofa.
I look down at my left hand, and smile, then look back to her and say, "Yeah, it is."
"Didn't you throw that at Ashley yesterday?" Jayy asked.
"Yeah. I did," I tell him.
"How'd you get it back?" Rocket asked this time.
"Ashley gave it back to me, adding a new promise to the list of old promises," I reply.
"Wasn't he drunk?" Dahvie asked.
"Yeah, but between me smacking the hell out of him, then Juliet showing him my cuts, it sobered him up pretty quickly," I say, "Now, enough. We're not playing 20 Questions here."
"Umm...Okay?" Jayy says, completely lost now.
"Anyway, what's the game plan?" I ask after a moment of silence.
They all look at each other, then back to me like I've lost every ounce of my God-given sense. Who knows, maybe I have, but I'm going to take the chances I feel are right. And Ashley feels right.
I sigh, then say, "Clearly nothing. Alright, well if that's the case, I'm going for a drive."
I get up, and begin to walk out of the living room, when Jayy's hand shouts out to grab my wrist, and he says, "You and I need to talk."
"About?" I ask.
"Go upstairs. I'll be there in a moment," he orders without looking at me, then releases my wrist and I just stare at him for a moment. I watch as he closes his eyes, and sighs. His jaw tightens, and then he finally says, "Go upstairs, Katie."
"Did I suddenly piss you off or something?" I ask, knowing he only calls me Katie when he's upset with me.
"Just go upstairs, Katie. We'll talk there," he demands again.
I huff, then turn on my heel and head up the stairs, feeling a sickening feeling form in the pit of my stomach as I get closer to the top of the stairs. What have I done? Does Jayy hate me now? Does he wish I'd never come to live with him and Dahvie? Is he planning on kicking me out? What's going on?
I don't have anymore time for questions, as Jayy comes into sight, and points to his bedroom. I nod and silently walk into the bedroom. He tells me to sit down, so I quietly walk over to the bed, and sit on the edge of it, while he pulls the desk chair in front of me, and sits in it.
"Can I help you?" I ask him.
He's quiet for a moment, clearly picking his words carefully. I watch as his gaze follows my arm, starring at my new cuts, and then he sighs through his nose. He takes a deep breath, then looks back at me and asked, "What are you doing?"
"Wh-What?" I ask, shocked by the question.
"What are you doing?" he repeats, saying each word slowly, as if talking to a child, "With Ashley? Last night you were so upset with him that you did this," he pauses, lifting one of my arms, then continues with, "Now today, you're wearing the promise ring he gave you again? The one you threw at him before you made us bring you home? Don't you think you should, I don't know, take a step back and reevaluate the situation? Maybe take a couple weeks to think about what you're getting into?"
"Jayy, I don't have a couple weeks to think about it. He leaves as soon as the record comes out, and now they're halfway through mixing all the tracks. The record comes out in less than a week after that, then he'll be gone, and I can think then," I tell him, "I love Ashley. I really do, and I promise I'll talk to him about this, and when he comes back from tour, I'll tell him what my thoughts are about it."
He nods, then says, "Alright. Just...make sure you do, Micro. I don't want to see you in this state again, and to ensure that this doesn't happen again, Dahvie and I will be looking through your room weekly, locking up all the sharp objects around the house, and anything else we think you might try to use to self-harm."
I don't like this, but I swallow that and simply nod my understanding. I then say, "We done?"
"Depends. We good?" he counters, with a small smile
"Yeah. We good," I tell him returning a weak smile.
"Alright. Then we're done," he tells me, pushing the desk chair back into place, and taking my hand in his. He pulls me off the bed, then we walk back downstairs, and he passes me Dahvie's keys and says, "Be careful."
"I will," I tell him, then give him a quick hug, and head for the door.
I open the door, then hear Dahvie ask, "How'd she take it?"
"Surprisingly well. I mean, at first she wasn't too thrilled, but she agreed," Jayy replies.
"That's at least a start, right?" Rocket says.
"Yeah, I mean, you got her to agree to not doing something this rash again," Red offers.
"Yeah, but I can't help but fear she'll find some way. She's so much like me, and when I set my mind to something, I find a way to do it," Jayy says, "I can see that in her too. If she really wants to self-harm, she'll find a way. It just breaks my heart to see her suffer like that though."
I swallow back my tears, then quietly close the door behind me, and head for Dahvie's bike. I get on, putting my helmet on, then drive down the freeway. I don't even know where I'm going, until I get there, and when I pull into the parking lot of the beach, I turn off the bike, and walk over to the waterline at a secluded part of the beach.
I sit on the warm sand, and take my boots off, followed by my socks, and set them next to me on the dry sand. I let the tides wash over my toes for a long time, silently thinking about everything in my life. Maybe Jayy's right. Maybe I need to reevaluate the situation. Not just with Ashley, but with everyone and everything in my life.
I lay back on the dry sand, looking up at the sky, as I begin to think, starting from the beginning. My parents. They lied to me about Jayy, sure, but mom had me when she was 22 years old, and Jayy is 5 years older than me, so that would have made her 17 when she had him. I can understand why she might not have wanted to keep him back then, as horrible as that sounds, but why lie about it? Was it just too hard to talk about or did she and my dad think I just wasn't ready to hear it?
I'll never know that answer, so I move on, and slowly hash out all the details of my life up until this point. I don't know what time it is by the time I leave the beach, but I do know that it's dark, but the city lights are still shining so bright you can still see for miles.
I slowly stand up, then walk over to Dahvie's bike, and get on. I slip my helmet on, and speed down the freeway, heading home.

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