Trapped |Joe Trohman| 01

I crawled under the sheer white sheets.
I was in my bubble.
The bubble that kept the unwanted out.
The bubble that kept them out.
The bubble that kept him out.
I was safe from everything.
I was safe from them.
I was safe from him.
I was safe.

The metal door creaked open and I clamped my mouth shut.
"Lily?"
He won't hear you.
He can't see you.

I chanted those phrases in my head
as I heard his foot falls move across the carpet.
"Lily-bear, come out."
I gritted my teeth at the nickname.
He had no right to use that.
"Come on, Lily. You can't hide forever."
Yes I can, I shouted silently at him.

"Lily-bear.." He cooed, his voice slipping through my ears like honey.
My body began to shake uncontrolably.
No.
No Lily-bear.
Leave me alone.

I felt a hard tug at the end of the covers.
I ground my teeth together to keep myself from screaming.
He found me.
It was over.
The sheer white covers that once protected me were
torn off and the bright lights burned my eyes.
I opened my mouth and let out a scream.
"Come on Lily," He murmured, his arms wrapping around my shaking form.
No, Joe, please don't do this to me, I begged silently, struggling to get out of his arms.
"Joey," I whimpered, pushing at his chest. "No."

Under my hands I could feel his sharp intake.
I glanced into his blue eyes and saw the memories crawling through them.
Before this happened.
When we were happy together.
When he didn't treat me like his responsibility.
When he treated me like his love.
Like his life.
"Joey," I tried again, kicking my legs. "Let go."
"No, Lily." His voice was hard, cold freezing over each little
syllable falling out of his mouth.
Joe's arms tightened around me, pressing my mouth into his shoulder, muffling my cries.
He carried me out into the hall where a half bottle of pills,
and a syringe laid in wait.
For me.


I screamed again, my voice bouncing against the white walls.
"No, Joey," I cried, tears splattering against both of our shirts.
His was a light yellow t-shirt with the word 'staff' printed in small bold letters.
Mine was white sweatshirt.
No strings or hoods.
We might try to suffocate ourselves.

No pockets.
We might try to hide something harmful.

My gray sweatpant clad legs clamped around his middle.
No jeans.
No pockets.
No risks.
No chances.
No deaths.
No suicides.

"Open up, Lily-bear."
I began to close my mouth, but he was quicker.
Pills invaded my mouth,
followed by water, forcing them down.
I could feel them tumbling their way down
my throat landing in my stomach.

Tears fell harder and my screams started up again.
I knew that screaming wouldn't help.
But what else could I do?
I couldn't bite him,
my mouth was preoccupied.
I couldn't claw at him,
because I didn't have anything sharp on my fingertips.
We might try to hurt ourselves.

Before I could prepare myself,
I felt something prick my skin.
The pain seered through my arm and I let out a blood-curdling scream as the needle digged deeper.