I turn the sound on the T.V louder in hopes of tuning out the yelling from next door. They’re fighting, again. It makes me wish that I’d just stayed at the hospital with Nix.

           Ever since Nix left, it seems like they fight every night. It drives me crazy. The only thing keeping me from going over there is the reminder that it's no longer my business. I got Nix out of there; it should be over now.

    I  blare my T.V louder and louder, but it almost seems like they’re trying to match the volume. I close my eyes, trying to keep myself from going over there.

    Then, suddenly, all the noise stops. I mute the TV and notice the eerie quiet that spreads throughout the apartment. I listen closely for an indication of noise, growing suspicious.

    Finally, I hear a door slam, and footsteps echo down the stairwell. I walk to my door, waiting until I can’t hear them anymore before peeking my head out to investigate. Their door is wide open, their lights still on. I step into the cold december air, curiosity getting the best of me.

    I step cautiously into the apartment. I’m not quite sure what I expect to come across as I continue into the house. Broken picture frames and glass litter the floor along with the broken memories that come with them. I bend down for a moment to pick up a photo. It features a tiny Nix in front of her mother and father, big smiles on all of their faces. It looks like most generic family photos. It makes me wonder how this family was ever truly as happy as they look in this photo. I set the photo on a small table beside a blue vase and turn into the kitchen. The sight in front of me makes me stop in my tracks, not quite processing for a few moments as I stare.

Blood. A trail of blood makes my eyes travel up to the source: Nix’s mother. Her long black hair hangs in her face as she leans limply against the kitchen cabinets. I notice her hand pressed against her stomach. I rub my eyes as flashbacks of my own mother appear before my eyes, making me stumble back slightly. I stand there for a few moments, unable to move. There’s too much blood, making panic rise in my chest. I push the thoughts away the best I can and pull out my cell phone with shaking hands. As I dial the police, I notice the slightest rise in her chest, announcing the smallest ounce of hope. I kneel to the floor beside her, taking her hand as I hold the phone to my ear. She opens her eyes to look at me, although for a moment her eyes don’t seem to focus.

    “Hello. There’s a woman in the apartment next to mine. I t-think she’s been s-stabbed.” I tell the woman on the other line, trying to get the words out.

    She asks me the address and I stutter so much, that I have to repeat it again for her. She tells me that the authorities are on the way, and not to move. The line goes dead after that and I almost throw the phone down in my panic. I brush the hair out of her eyes, noticing the sweat dripping down her face.  

    “Ma’am, the police are on the w-way. Please just hold on a little longer. P-please. Nix needs you.” I stutter out.

    She smiles weakly at me.

    “No, she doesn’t. She has you.” She whispers ever so quietly to me. “Just make sure she knows I love her.”

    “You can tell her yourself, just stay with me.” I mumble, tearing up as the words come from my mouth.

     I let go of her hand and look through a few of the cabinets, finding some dish towels. I press one to her stomach, my hands still shaking as I do so. She takes the towel from me before slumping against the cabinet again.  She closes her eyes, leaning her head against the counter. My eyes widen as I shake her lightly. She opens her eyes again and I breath a sigh of relief.

    “Can you please get a photo of Nicole from the hallway? Any one will do.” She asks, her voice soft and hoarse.

    I nod and scramble up from my kneeling position on the floor. I look through the photos on the floor, grabbing two of them. One of just Nix, a school photo with her hair in pigtails and missing front teeth, and the photo I’d picked up earlier. I quickly take them back to her, sitting next to her again. She takes them from me, her hand covered in thick blood, making my stomach churn. I watch as she stares at them, a small smile on her lips.

    “I’m really going to miss that smile of hers.” She mutters, more to herself than me.

    “You don’t have to, because you’re going to be fine. You’ll get to see so many more of those smiles.” I tell her, unsure if I’m saying it for her sake or mine.

     Sirens pierce the silent night in the distance, giving me another bit of hope. I watch her carefully, waiting for any changes to add to my panic.

    She looks at me again, taking my shaking hand in hers.

    “I’m not going to make it. Please take care of her, keep her safe.” She says in a voice so soft I can barely hear.

    She closes her eyes, her hand falls limp. She’s still breathing but barely. It feels like I’m watching her life fade away more and more as the seconds pass. I stare for a few moments, unsure of what to do as the images of my mother's own death flood back to me. It’d been something I’d never wanted to think about, a repressed memory I never wanted back. I can see it now, the blood, the knife in my father's hand. I can still imagine the look on my mother's face as the life is drained from her, the image too similar to what I’m seeing now. I shake my head, trying to numb these thoughts before it gets too much. I focus back on Nix’s mother, noticing how still she is. I shake her lightly, hoping to spark some kind of reaction, but nothing happens. The sound of sirens get louder as they pull into the parking lot.

    “No, no, no.” I say, shaking her harder once I notice that her chest is no longer rising and falling, “Please, no. She needs you, you can’t leave.”

    Tears falls down my face as I slump onto the floor. I stare down at the blood on my hands, guilt taking over. If I had just come over a minute sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. I hear voices as paramedics rush into the apartment. Two men pull me away from her body and back into the cold air. Someone puts one of those security blankets over my shoulders and I watch as they roll her body out. After she’s driven away, I notice something laying on the steps. A bloody knife, which the police seem to notice as well because they begin the process of collecting it as evidence. They’ll probably test it for fingerprints, but I already know who those fingerprints belong to.

    A/N It's been a while but I was really stuck with where I wanted to go with this but I figured out what direction I wanted to go in so chapters should be going up regularly. Sorry for the super long wait but I hope you enjoy this chapter, I worked very hard on it and am really proud with how it turned out. Don't forget to comment feedback and subscribe! I love you guys! =)