Blaine sat in an easy chair in Debi’s littered living room while she and Perion got standing up falling down drunk. They sat in front of Debi’s console television trying to play a video game. Being drunk and working a small keypad was hard work for them, and they kept losing and restarting the game. At first, Blaine mused, they had started drinking shooters, but after they got a buzz going, they began taking longer and longer swigs straight out of the bottle.
After a few hours, Perion became bored with the game and excused herself to the bathroom. Once inside, Perion became violently sick and vomited repeatedly into the toilet. She was not accustomed to drinking so much liquor. When she had recovered sufficiently enough, she remained collapsed on the bathroom floor. She cursed herself for stupidly drinking what she had and for leaving home. All she wanted to do was call Lein and go home. But she didn’t want to do that, either, not really. All she’d end up doing at home would be pining for her dead band.
On wobbly legs, she stood up, using the commode as her stabilizer. She found herself looking into the mirror of the medicine cabinet. She was definitely a mess. She opened the cabinet and saw that Debi had accumulated an overwhelmingly large supply of razor blades. She knew why. Debi kept them handy to end it all, join Syndi and Randi. Suddenly, the idea seemed very attractive to Perion as well.
She picked up one of the blades and held it up to the bathroom’s fluorescent light. It gleamed brightly and seemed to be beckoning her: come on, use me for what I was bought for...slice that wrist, slice that vein, chop chop...come on, do it...end it now. She glanced down at the blade, then down at her wrist. It seemed so logical, so right. She slowly brought it down, and at first, she didn’t feel the pain at all as the blade began slicing at her flesh.
Blaine looked back at the bathroom door, then back at Debi. She was still in front of the television, still trying to beat the game. “Debs, Peri’s been in there an awful long time.”
“Huh?” Debi asked in her drunken stupor.
"Perion, Debi, she’s been in there kinda long.”
“Oh,” she said dumbly, and then went back to her game. But not for long. A realization hit her, so plain and clear, that for a moment, she was as sober as a judge. “Oh, shit, Blaine. I have fuckin’ razors in there! She’s got the fuckin’ razors!”
Blaine was up and out of the easy chair way before Debi was on her feet. He bolted for the bathroom door. As he expected, it was locked. He automatically began banging his shoulder against the door in an attempt to knock it down. He called Perion’s name the whole time.
Debi was there shortly. “Blaine, you’re not gonna get it open that way. The wood’s too heavy, here use this.”
She had a small key in her hand, and she quickly shoved it into his. He jammed the key into the lock and felt a sense of relief he couldn’t believe when he heard it hit home. He swung the door open and saw an amazing amount of blood. And in the middle of the blood, he saw Perion. She had slit both wrists. He ran to her then, like he had never run to her before. He picked her up, hating the warm wet feeling of her blood against his skin. She nearly slithered out of his arms due to all the blood covering her arms and wrists, it was dripping everywhere.
“Debi, call Lein! I’m taking her to the hospital,” Blaine screamed at her.
Debi didn’t hesitate.