*Omario POV*
“Abi!” I shout her name as I rush to the floor where she lays with a pool of blood around her arm. My shaving razor blade shines a few centimetres from her.
“I should have not left you alone. How could I be so stupid?” I ask myself as I pick her from the floor and place her on the bed. I tear my shirt and tie her wrist to try and stop the blood that is still oozing from her slit wrist.
“Abi, can you hear me?” I can’t help but panic. Her whole tiny body move when I shake her but I get no response. She looks so pale and feels so cold. I am not a doctor but her shallow breathing paints a scary picture I refuse to accept. It’s really selfish on my part that I don’t want to let go of an abused, battered and malnourished slave who has had it. It’s not even about the damn prophe
