When I wake up later on, I go straight to Seb's room and enter without knocking.
It is exactly how I left it.
Seb is sitting on the bed, and he looks up when I walk in.
"You cleaned my room," he says.
I nod. "Yes, i cleaned your room."
Moving forward, I pick up one of the sharp blades that I've left on his duvet.
Tears begin leaking down his face.
"Seb... you promised..." the blade cuts into my fingers as I twirl it, but I ignore the pain.
"Lola, stop," Seb begs. "Put it down."
"You... I trusted you, Seb. You lied to me."
His voice shakes. "Lola, please put it down."
Now there is blood running down my arms, but I still take not notice.
"Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you just tell me?"
Real panic sets in on his face. "Lola, please. Look at what you're doing."
Patches of red have started to bloom on his duvet. Now I'm crying too.
"Lola. Lola," he looks right into my face. "You've made your point. Please put it down before you seriously injure yourself."
He pulls the blade from my hands, slicing both our palms as he does so.
He takes all three blades and throws them across the room.
Then he drags me into the bathroom.
I'm so shocked my his immediate control of the situation that I don't even respond when he pushes my hands under a stream of boiling water. I just watch numbly until the water runs clear.
"You are lucky you didn't severe any main arteries, you stupid girl!" he shouts, throwing a towel at me before burning his own hands to blisters.
When he's stopped bleeding, he takes a hold of my hair and uses it to pull me back into his room and throw me onto the floor.
"Lola, you must never do that again," Seb kneels in front of me, and the ferocity in his expression causes me to shrink back against the wall. "Do you know what that can do to you? It's bad. It's bad, Lola." He puts a hand on the wall at either side of my head and stares into my face. "You don't understand. Do you know how many scars I have, Lola? Sixty-eight, and they're all counts. All of them. For everything wrong in my life. And I have tried over fifty times to end it. When you came into my room a few months ago, you were literally a few seconds away from seeing me slit my wrist. So help me, Lola, I wish you hadn't been there to stop me. And why? Because I'm supposed to take care of our mother, in her state, and I can't. As your older brother, I'm supposed to be your guardian, and I can't be. I am too weak, so I hurt myself, and that makes me weaker. I am nothing that I want, and that I'm supposed to be. My life would be better without me in it, and I hate that. Lola, if you shot me now, the only thing I would care about would be that you even had the gun. You have no idea how much I want to die, Lola, and it started with finding that blade in my room. I hate - I HATE - what I have become, and I do not want that to happen to you."
Throughout his speech, he's yelling at me, and he looks furious.
"... I'm sorry... Seb..." I whimper.
His expression softens immediately. "No. No, you weren't ready to hear that." And he holds me close to his chest. His whole body is trembling.