2 Minutes, 23 Seconds

2' 18"

Stacey quivered at the sight of Van utterly devastated. Tears glazed her eyes but would not fall. A huge lump formed in her throat. Her lips trembled and closed each time she flinched when a punch was thrown.

Van poured all his anger in his punches that almost never missed his target.

She just watched everything happen before her eyes as tormenting thoughts began to fill her mind. She was the root of all of this.

Stacey took a step back and while everyone was busy stopping Van, she walked around them and ran to nowhere exact. She only ceased running when she nearly tripped over her own feet. She was shaking all over.

What will happen now to Eury? Van? Even Duncan?

She caused this. If it weren't for her and her fucked up life, Van wouldn't be where he is right now. He was sick because of her. If he hadn't left Eury for her, the latter wouldn't be with Drew. And from what Van had breathlessly relayed to Duncan when they arrived, it was because of Drew that Eury was now in the emergency room.

Still, she was the beginning of the tragedy in Van's life. She brought him that.

Her knees buckled as soon as she turned at a corner, and she fell to the floor. She breathed heavily as she hopelessly attempted to gather her thoughts and her strength.

There were a few nurses and guards headed to the direction of the commotion. One stopped to approach her and asked if she was okay, but she could barely hear her.

She struggled to get on her heels and ignored the nurse. Instead, she walked to the doors in an unsteady gait.

She should get home.

Duncan realized that Stacey was nowhere near them only after Van passed out and he looked around to ask everyone's help for his patient and the man he'd beaten up.

He cursed under his breath as he tried to keep himself together. He shouldn't have brought Stacey with him—to a hospital—even if she insisted that she wanted to upon hearing his phone conversation with Van earlier. Where had she gone to?

As a doctor, he had to make his patient's life top priority, but he was also a man dedicated to loving a woman and taking care of her.

He decided to attend to Van first, as he was in more danger. He had to act fast and think quick. If only he could tear himself to two, he would have already done so and send one to look for his beloved.

His Greta wasn't completely fine, mentally speaking, and she had not had a proper diagnosis yet. He could not let her out of his sight.

Thankfully, nurses came running towards them right when Van blacked out. He asked them to take care of Van and attend to Drew's wounds.

Two nurses looked at him unbelievably, as he was ordering them around.

"I'm a fucking doctor, for Pete's sake!"

He can't leave yet. He had to make sure Van will be treated accordingly.

Stacey mindlessly walked out of the hospital, but then she remembered that someone might follow her and lead her back inside. So she ran and crossed the road. She had a few coins in the pocket of her shorts, enough for one jeepney ride to her street.

She didn't wait too long for a jeep to arrive. She got inside in a hurry and ducked her head when she sat, in fear someone might recognize her.

The moment she alighted the jeep, she ran to her apartment and up to her door. She didn't know exactly what to do anymore.

She shut the door and locked it.

Tears overcame her. She sat right there and hugged her legs, burying her face in her knees.

No one will ever forgive her anymore.

She caused all of these. She was born a mistake and remained a failure and a disappointment to everyone she loved. She was too weak. She couldn't love the right way. The ways she knew just weren't enough for them—her mother, her stepfather, Royce, Van. She couldn't even protect the baby she lost. What's the point of living, then?

Sobbing, she lifted herself up and walked towards to kitchen. She grabbed a knife and went to the bathroom.

There, she turned the shower on and let herself be fully drenched under the sprinkles of extremely hot water. It burned her skin, but she thought she deserved it. Anyway, her heart felt heavy and it is pain she could only identify. She sobbed louder. Her chest wanted to explode. It was more than she could bear.

Without turning the water off, she sat down and leaned against the wall. The watered continued to burn her legs.

Holding the knife with wet and trembling fingers, it took a lot of strength to keep it from slipping from her hand.

She thought of where to hit first.

Maybe a small part in her still did not want to die. She remembered how she dreaded this very thought of dying. But now, she doesn't know. Maybe she wanted this too. Maybe.

Through swollen eyes, she glanced at the knife and smiled sadly at the thought that in a few seconds, or minutes if she's going to be too much of a coward, this sharp thing will later be smeared with her blood.

Thinking to herself, why hadn't she done this before? Why did she involve Van and Eury? The two had a perfect life together, and she ruined it. She was too weak to deal with her own mess, that she felt the need to force and drag them to her misery.

She deserved this suffering. She deserves to die.

Coming to a final conclusion, she lifted the knife and slowly dragged the sharpness on her wrist, adding pressure as she went. Perfect spot.

She felt nothing at first. Her forehead creased.

Then it burned. It burned so bad that the small part in her that wanted to live screamed in her mind, telling her to alleviate the pain. It stung and bled hard. Her eyes widened at how much blood oozed out of her tiny wrist. Her chest heaved and fell continuously.

Once was not enough, she thought. And so she slit her bleeding wrist a second time. She took the knife with her wounded hand and inflicted the same on her other wrist.

Yes, she deserved it.

She did it over and over again until she's almost bathing in her own blood.

She waited.

For death? For salvation? For Duncan?

Just a little bit more. Just a little more time, she'd be gone for good.

That's when she heard door being brought down, and her name being called. Greta, she actually loved hearing it.

Life felt suddenly sucked out of Duncan as soon as he saw his beloved swimming in her own blood.

He was drenched in sweat from driving to her apartment and running. Disregarding the slight pain of sweat getting into his eyes and the steam inside the bathroom, he ran to Stacey and held her hand, the one hanging by the edge of the tub. There he saw what she did to herself.

He noticed the hot water still running and falling on her reddened skin. He immediately turned it off.

"Greta," he called her with shaking voice laced with fear. Tears began forming in his eyes. "G-Greta, I'm here. I'm here. P-Please, I don't want to lose you." He repeatedly called her.

He touched her pale face and tapped her cheeks. She wasn't responding. She checked for her pulse on her neck. She was still alive.

He wasted no more time and carried her out of the bloody water.