I sat in the chair next to Charley's bed, watching them stitch and bandage her up. Charley's mum rushed in and cried on her shoulder. We sat next to her bed talking about what had happened and who I was. Her name was Lindsey, and she offered if I wanted to stay with her instead of the shed I usually sleep in now.
The next thing we knew Charley's heart monitor was flat and doctors ran in, they didn't tell us to leave so Lindsey started to cry into my chair and I sat speechless, watching them stick needles into her and hook her up to machines. When her heart rate was back to normal, they put the final needle in, it went into her lower right arm and I was shocked to see what I saw next.
Her wrist, covered in burns, scars and cuts. So many, you could hardly see her skin. It's a sensitive topic for me so I started to cry. Lindsey knew what I was crying about so she put her arm around me and tried to comfort me. I wasn't wearing my jacket, just my bracelets, so she caught eye contact with my arm and put her hand on me.
When charley woke, I made conversation with her, about how I was staying with her and how much fun we would have, but halfway through she caught me looking at her wrist.
She explained why she did it and I understood.
When Lindsey came back in with the doctor, he said when charley could get out of here, but we must let her rest an heal. If she didn't heal properly it could lead to an internal bleed and it could be fatal to her.
She could come home tomorrow morning, but Lindsey said she would take me home to get my things ready and settled in before charley came home, so we wouldn't have to rush while she was trying to heal; and she said I had to rest as if had a stressful day and it wouldn't help my brain. Lindsey told me she was a psychiatric so she would know about depression and self harm, and how it damages your brain and makes you overthink.