Cursed Fate: Cursed Series #4 (6 page)

Life may not always be what it seems, but I’m beginning to believe that everything does happen for a reason. He’ll never replace Dault. I’ll never feel for him as I do for Dault, but as a friend, I know that Christian will always be there for me.

The blaring sound of a horn pulls me out of my fog as my eyes look forward at the green traffic light. Turning the corner I pull into Ashley’s apartment complex.

I don’t care what the hell I have to do; I need to stop her from leaving. The crew I once felt a part of is slowly dwindling down to none.

She can’t leave, I won’t lose her too.

There has to be a way to fix this and bring us all back together again.

Chapter 6

Walking through the front door of my house, I’m met with the stale smell of alcohol. As I move through the living room I pass empty bottles, dirty glasses, and painful memories.

The encouraging words of Cliff pass through my mind while I fall back onto my chair…
make wise choices my friend; we’ll get through this together.

Taking in a deep breath, I close my eyes and exhale through pierced lips. He’s right, I need to make the right choices; ones that will help me get through the depression that’s trying to bury me alive. All my life I’ve fought to stay strong, but the pills and the bottle have always won. I need to fight the battle raging inside of me and strive for the willpower to move on. No longer can I allow the hurt of my past to dictate my future. I may have lost before, but now I will strive to win and fight for the things that really matter to me.

Feeling hopeful, I allow my exhaustion to take over. As I set my sights on
her,
I fall into a deep sleep.

Sounds of the door bell ring through my ears, followed by hard knocks at the front door. I can’t move. I feel cold and can’t stop my body from shivering.

My memory is cloudy. I can’t seem to think, let alone understand what’s happening. Trying to open my eyes, it’s almost impossible.

The front door creeks open and a loud man’s voice shouts through the empty space, but all that I feel is ice surrounding me in a pit of darkness.

Footsteps vibrate against the wooden floor and I can sense warmth next to me.

“Dude, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”

I’m so confused; I can’t filter through the thoughts that are rushing through my mind. This voice is filled with fear, yet I’m not sure why.

Am I in a dream…why can’t I open my eyes?

Starting to panic, my body begins to convulse as I’m turned to my side.

I can’t seem to control the motions. I’m trembling as my torso rocks back and forth against a hard surface. How the fuck did I land on the floor? Where am I?

A nauseous feeling pulls from my stomach as bile and vomit shoot from my lips. Euphoria begins to set in and I’m once again lost…my world shuts down and my senses turn off.

A bright light shines before my closed lids as voices surround my being. I begin to gag as something is pulled from my throat. The sound of voices continues to clutter the space, but I’m not able to follow what’s being said. Unsure as to where I am or what’s happening, I attempt to pull open my eyes.

Squinting to see the forms in front of me, all I can gather is that I’m in a room with a green curtain and white walls. Attempting to clear my vision, I blink a few times until I can see the images surrounding me.

“He’s awake,” a female voice remarks.

A man comes along side of me and points the bright light into my eyes once again.

“You’re a lucky young man, Mr. Zotto. Had that delivery man not found you when he did, you might not be here with us right now.”

Confused, I shut my eyes trying to think back to my last memory…the whiskey…the pills. The last thing I remember is falling onto my chair at home, everything else is a blur.

“Mr. Zotto, can you open your eyes for us again?” The man’s voice booms through the room.

Clearing myself from my haze, I attempt to pull open my eyes to see three figures standing around me.

“Good, glad to see that you’re back with us,” he says stepping closer to me.

“W-where am I?” I croak out.

My throat is sore and a bitter aftertaste sits on my tongue.

“You’ve had quite the night here, young man. As I mentioned earlier, a delivery man found you on the floor of your home. He was smart enough to quickly contact 911 and they brought you here, to our hospital.”

“B-but why?” I stutter through the words, my throat burning as I try to swallow.

“What is the last thing you can remember?”He asks.

Rather than speak, I just shake my head back in forth. I honestly can’t remember a thing.

“The past few hours, our emergency room as been trying to bring you back from an overdose. I’m not sure what transpired before you were brought through our doors, but your blood alcohol was twice the legal limit and the toxicology report showed an extremely high dose of Oxycodone in your system. You’re a very lucky man that you were brought here when you were.”

Listening to his words, the memories start to play through my head. I was in so much pain, frustrated at the life I had been living that I was willing to do anything to make it all go away.

My eyes catch site of a woman as she moves to the side of my bed. With a soft smile on her face, she grabs for the remote dangling along the side of the arm rail. Pushing a button, my bed begins to move, raising me to an inclined position.

“It’s been a long night and it’ll be an even longer few days,” she pauses waiting for me to make eye contact.

Once my eyes hit her emerald green eyes, the smile returns.

“We pumped your stomach and were removing the tube when you first started to wake. Your throat may seem raw for the next few days, so take it easy.”

Raising a cup to me, she signals with her head for me to take it.

“You’ll need to drink this entire cup, no exceptions. It tastes awful, but believe me, your liver will thank me later.”

Reaching for the cup, I take it in my hands and bring it to my lips. The smell is enough to make my stomach feel ill; I can’t imagine how bad the taste will actually be. Not waiting a second longer, I tip the cup back and take in a small sip.

“Ugh,” I sputter through closed lips.

Looking back into her eyes, she encourages me to drink more.

“Do it, Mr. Zotto. The longer you prolong it, the worse off you’ll be.”

Nodding, I drink down the last bit of the charcoal tasting, thick liquid.

As I hand the cup to her, the man walks away from the bed and another woman steps forward.

“Good morning, Mr. Zotto. Glad to see that you’re feeling much better. I’m Kathryn, one of the mental health specialists here at the hospital. I understand you’ve had quite an experience and may not be up to talking quite yet, but I wanted to take the time to introduce myself. I’ll be stopping by again throughout my shift, so be sure to get plenty of rest and listen to these fine people.”

Rather than speaking, I nod and wave my hand in her direction. With a smile she turns and leaves the room without another word.

My gaze searches the room and falls to the woman standing next to me. I watch as the nurse reviews the machine set up along side of my bed. Before leaving, she encourages me to get some rest and use the call button should I need anything.

Watching her leave the room, I’m alone to ponder over what’s taken place the last few minutes.

The poisons I poured into my body brought me here. The pain that’s been hurting me for months has caused me to almost kill myself. Even if it was not my intent, it still happened. I am embarrassed, let down, and feeling a sense of…pain.

A knock sounds at the wall and the curtain is pulled back to the side. A petite woman walks through and toward my side.

“Hi, I’m Carrie, one of the nurses on staff this evening. We usually don’t allow this, but the man that found you in your home has asked to see you. It’s totally fine if you choose not to see him, he just wanted to know if you were willing to meet him.”

Standing with hands in her pockets, I watch her expression turn from calm to nervous as I stare back at her.

“I-it’s fine,” I mutter in response.

Her distraught face changes to that of a smile as she nods and walks out of the room.

A few minutes tick by and a tall man moves past the curtain and to the end of my bed. Silence fills the room as we look back and forth between one another.

“I guess I owe you a thank you,” I remark grabbing for my throat.

The raw feeling burns as I swallow the dryness in my mouth.

My eyes follow him as he moves to the side of my bed.

“I’ve never done anything like this man, it’s fucking crazy.”

As he stands next to me, I scan the person standing by my side. He’s covered in tattoos, both arms filled with sleeves of colorful ink. My eyes roam the rest of him and stop to the art on his neck, it’s magnificent and I can’t help but continue to scope the ink that covers the sides of his face.

“I’m Cliff Benjamin,” he says extending his hand out to me.

Attempting to clear my throat, I reach my hand out to shake his.

“I’m Steve Zotto.”

“Well it was nice to meet you, Steve. I just had to see for myself that you were alive and okay.”

Looking into his eyes, I’m paralyzed for a moment. The icy blue color is almost hypnotizing and I have no choice but to look away.

“I really do appreciate what you did, Cliff.”

“I don’t know what shit you had going on, my friend, but nothing in this world is worth taking your own life.”

“That wasn’t my intent,” I reply with a cough.

“It’s not my business, but whatever your intention was you almost died. In the future, make wise choices; you can get through anything if you really want.”

Closing my eyes I begin to shake my head. He’s right, nothing in this world is important enough for me to hurt myself. I’ve learned a valuable lesson, one that in a short time will change the rest of my life for as long as I live.

As I open my eyes, I’m vividly reminded of those painful days. Right now it was just a dream, but the reality of it was that I almost lost my life. I can’t…no, I won’t put myself in that position again. I scan the mess in front of me. First things first, if I’m going to make some serious life changes, I need to start right here in my home.

Rising from my chair, I begin to grab everything off of the coffee table. Carrying the items into the kitchen, I stand in front of the sink looking down as I empty the contents of the liquor bottles. The smell of the whiskey burns my senses and my stomach begins to churn.