Johnny managed to peel his eyes open just enough to read the blurred lines on his bedside clock that glowed 05:37am. He had only been out for a few minutes but already he was feeling the effects of the alcohol mixed with his self harm. He managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, hanging his head down between his knees and felt the burning pain of the thick, red gashes on his arms. He knew he needed help, and to get to a hospital as soon as possible. Loosing conciseness by the second he was able to pull on a pair of shorts and snap open his phone, sending a short text to whoever was first on his recent contacts list.

"Help"

Send.

Blackout.

Vague noises and images began to flood Johnny's mind as Zacky pounded down the door and rushed to his aid.

"Fuck, fuck no!" Zacky screamed as he cradled Johnny's head in his arms, his eyes rolling back so far that only the whites could be seen. Zacky looked hopelessly around the small, dank apartment for clues as to what had happened. In amongst the cigarette ends and food packaging he could just make out a flash of silver razor blade metal against a sticky black pool of blood.

"Somebody please help us!" Zacky screamed so loud he thought that he had broken his windpipe, he looked down at his friend who was now obviously loosing a lot of blood and had turned a violent shade of white. Waiting for help Zacky began to turn Johnny's arms over, inspecting the old scars and new, deep gashes that ran up to the bottom of his elbows.

"What have you done to yourself?" Zacky stroked Johnny's clammy forehead , brushing his tattered Mohawk out of his eyes. He cooed and whispered calming words in his friends ear. Zacky began to feel Johnny falling into a deeper sleep as the landlady burst through the open door.

"What the fuck are you two up to in here?!" The red headed landlady dropped her lit cigarette on the floor and raced towards the shivering pair in the middle of the room. Zacky could immediately see a change in her personality, she wasn't such a cruel bitch after all, deep down her mothering instincts must have kicked in.

"Right, I don't care how it happened, and I don't want to know what's involved, but we need to get this young man to the hospital pronto!"

She shot a look over at Zacky "I take it that you rang 911?"

Zacky, bleary eyed shock his head.

"Shit boy you're in for a rough night, no ambulance will come near this neighbourhood this late at night, we'll have to take my car. You can pay me back for petrol later".

Without hesitation the woman began to drag Johnny unsteadily to his feet, she hooked one of his half tattooed, half blooded arm around her neck and motioned for Zacky to mimic her actions.

"Lift's broken like always so we'll have to take the stairs. Now he won't be able to walk for himself so we'll have to partly drag him. Oh and keep his head forward in case he decides to bring up his dinner. We don't want him choking on his own vomit now do we".

Zacky listened to the landlady and began to unsteadily lead his best friend down the 3 flights of stairs, passing concerned onlookers noisily staring out of their apartment doors. Zacky gritted his tech as he heard a few passing, gossiping comments.

"Stupid man must have overdosed"
"Doesn't matter anyway, heard he was selling his body to pay for the smack"
"Maybe we'll finally get some piece around here now"

Tears pricked at his emerald eyes as they made it out the front door and into the car parked at the end of the street.

"You sit in the back with your friend and we'll be there in no time"

Zacky braced both himself and Johnny as the car lunged forward, full speed towards the hospital.

Notes

Thought I'd bring the landlady back into this one :)
many things will be explained in the next chapter - such as how did Zacky know where Johnny lived? And did he know about the self harm before this happened?

**thanks for still reading guys, it really means a lot to me :) I'm hoping to finish another few chapters over the weekend now I know where the story is going**