I landed squarely against the rim of the tub. The impact knocked the wind out of me even as I tried to grab the knife from Serena's fingers. In my ear, I could hear Olivia screaming my name, telling me - or was it Josh? - call 911 immediately. My side stung and hurt, but at that moment, I could only focus on one thing. The knife.

I had no thought for my own safety, the possibility of the knife slashing me never occurring to me even after the blade sliced through my right palm. I had foolishly thought that my familiarity with the Exacto knife I'd used for years to sharpen drawing pencils and crayons would have made taking it away from Serena an easy task. But I had completely underestimated the cosmetic surgeon who wielded it, both her strength and her intentions.

As the knife cut across my palm, the pain shot through me like an icy sting followed by a burning sensation that made me gasp in shock as my hand dipped into the warm water. Still, my mind was focused, my attention only on taking the knife away from Serena before she could do any more damage - maybe not just to herself, but to me.

But despite my intentions, at that moment, I realized that things had spiraled out of my control.

Damn you, bitch! She screamed at me again. Damn you to hell!

My body was twisted in a strange way outside the tub, my feet struggling to regain their footing on the slippery floor as I caught hold of Serena's arms, keeping the blade away from her and from myself. But Serena's strength surprised me once again. Her wrist slipped from my grasp and she slashed towards her other arm again - or was it at my right arm? The dull blade sliced through my forearm and this time, I screamed in pain, blood gushing from a wound that spanned what looked like more than the length of my hand. This time, I didn't have to know that she had cut deeply. My right hand flopped back like it belonged to a rag doll.

It's strange how the mind, once realizing that certain things were no longer within its control, acquiesces to the reality of the situation at hand, allowing one's adrenaline-flooded body to do things the rational mind wouldn't have done - or thought to do at that moment. Or were my thoughts simply racing too fast for me to process normally?

I could have left Serena in the tub and let her do whatever it was she wanted. Still, I couldn't simply stand aside and watch her take her own life in front of me. Adrenaline had taken over me, overruling the common sense to get away and protect myself. I needed to do what I could to stop her. Why, I didn't know. This time, I climbed over the tub wall and fell into the water with her. Water splashed over the rim as my weight displaced the water still pouring from the faucet, the heat hitting me first and then the steam clouding my vision.

The lacerations on my palm and forearm stung like mad, pain shooting through me with every move I made, making me light-headed. Everything was happening as if in slow motion, each movement punctuated by the stillness of time that no longer seemed to exist.

"You!" Serena screamed. "Why do you have to ruin everything?"

"Me?!" I sputtered, lunging towards her again, my brain refusing to acknowledge all the danger I had just put myself in, or that my right hand was no longer working. "I never asked for any of this!"

My little Michael's face flashed in my mind then, and with it the moment when David handed him to me after they had to do the emergency C-section because something had gone wrong during the 30 hours of labor. Another vision came. Michael swaddled in my arms, with me holding on to him for dear life as David went on his rages about my paintings - or the lack of them - and how we needed the money so we should just sell the house to the developers and move into an apartment. And yet another vision. Michael learning how to walk and talk. Michael, with his beautiful blue eyes and dark hair, so much like his father, yet not so much like him because he was going to be a kind and gentle boy. *My boy.

Suddenly I was angry, infuriated at everybody for their trivial problems that somehow affected me - at Erik for not telling me what had happened at Cabo though I knew it wouldn't have made a difference if he had, at myself for being so damn emotional when all my life's experiences had taught me not to be. How could I have thought that I could rescue Serena from herself while putting my own life in danger?

When had I gotten too soft?

As I looked at Serena's eyes, I realized that something else had taken over her. A madness lurked there - not just rage. It was madness. She slashed at her own wrist again and this time, I let her, letting go of her arm for my own pain was too much, the steam making my wounds burn, blood pouring out even as I knew I had to staunch the flow somehow.

But something inside me still refused to be a witness to something so horrible. Mad or not, I could not allow myself to have front row seats to the snuffing of a life, with me as a possible reason for the act. I yelled at Serena to give me the knife and without waiting for her to say something, I balled my left hand into a fist and punched her in the face, the year spent in juvie not lost on me. When she lunged at me, unfazed, I punched her again and this time, I broke her nose.

Blood poured from her nose but I didn't care. It produced the result I wanted - needed her to do. She dropped the Exacto knife and as it clattered against the edge of the tub and onto the floor, I grabbed it and flung it as far away as I could. Serena screeched, a horrified look on her face as she pressed her hands to her nose. I turned off the water and crawled out of the tub, moving as far away as I could from her, the world already spinning before my eyes.

I crawled towards the sink, where Erik - or maybe Consuelo - had left a stack of thick towels on the counter, and grabbed them all, trying to wrap one around my forearm. My vision was clouded with the steam and my own tears, as I finally registered the pain.

"He promised me he'd always be there for me," Serena was babbling. "Even after we lost our baby in Cabo, he promised me he'd always be there! We were slowly getting back together but he had to see your stupid painting and meet your stupid friend who built you up like you were the best thing since sliced bread. You! You're just the fucking daughter of a fu-"

"You shut up and you keep my mother out of this!" I shouted at her. "Don't blame everyone else for your fucking problems! It takes two-"

I stopped. I wondered if my mind had just played tricks on me, some auditory processing center in my brain finally kicking in at the words she had spoken.

"What baby?" I asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"In Cabo," she sobbed. "We lost our baby in Cabo. Didn't he tell you? Of course he would never tell you. He never told anyone because he dumped me after I lost our baby-"

"You were...you were pregnant?" I asked, though I began to see myself drifting farther from myself, floating above the scene. I leaned back against the wall and pressed my arm tighter against my chest, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from my wounds. My fingers had turned blue as they peeked from the towel wrapped around my arm, and the sight made me want to wrench. My painting arm, I thought, though this time I had no strength to even protest at the realization of what was happening.

Serena rambled, her words drifting in and out of my consciousness. The world had gone to shit and here I was, a captive audience to a lunatic, I thought then.

"He dumped me when I lost our baby in Cabo," she said. "Not that he'll ever admit it - your knight in shining armor. You stole him from me - you and your stupid painting. He was mine."

"So you think that by trying to kill yourself, you'll make him stay to you?" I said - or at least that's what I thought I said. My mouth felt like it was filling with cotton. It was harder to speak, harder still to hear my own words, a deafening hum filling the world.

"He's mine," she mumbled again and again. He's always been mine.

"You're crazy," I whispered. "You're absolutely crazy."

"He's never forgiven me for what happened," she whispered, her expression turning bitter. "He holds me responsible for losing our baby. Why do you think he dumped me? Why do you think he likes you? You've got your own kid - his own instant family waiting for him, needing him."

"Erik would never do that -" I began but stopped. What the hell did I know about Erik?

"-and then you came along and ruined any chances we had left to be together," she said bitterly. "You, an ex-con. That's what you are, isn't it?"

I must have faded for a moment but I forced myself to stay awake. In the distance, I could hear the sound of a siren. I wondered then if one of us had somehow called 911, but then I realized that my phone was no longer on me, so it couldn't have been me. I had a faint thought of Olivia but like most thoughts at that moment, they seemed to flit in and out of my mind. There was no cohesiveness to my thoughts at all, now jumbled and drifting from one face to another. Michael. Anna. Rosie. Chuck. Lindsey. Trevor. Reggie and Sara. Even David, of all people.

And Erik. It always went back to Erik.

Still, Serena was still talking though I was no longer hearing what she was saying. A chill had seeped through my bones, and I felt myself beginning to shiver, my teeth chattering. Somehow I was now lying on the floor, the world receding like the surf leaves the shore, the only trace of it - for that moment - only the foam that dissipates far too quickly for a mind to grasp its brief existence and beauty.

In the distance, a door slammed open, footfalls vibrating against my cheek as it touched the floor facing the open door and through the glass doors leading to the deck, I could see people gathering, peering. I wondered then what they were looking at but before I could think of anything else, I heard my name being called even as Serena began to shout, her tone changing to that of someone sounding desperate.

She tried to kill herself! I was only trying to stop her! She tried to kill herself - she even tried to slash me!

Other voices drowned out her voice. Shadows fell around me, someone turning my head up towards the ceiling, a pinpoint of light directed into one eye and then the other. It was a dream, I thought. Just a dream.

Are you alright? Can you tell me what happened?

Then I remembered my arm. My hand.

"Don't look at your arm," said a voice that didn't sound familiar to me. "Look at me. Tell me your name."

So many questions, I thought. Someone had somehow packed my mouth full of cotton for I couldn't speak. Sam, I wanted to tell him, my name is Sam. But you already know that. You were calling my name earlier. Why do you ask for my name when you already know it?

I didn't know what to think anymore as more shadows filled my vision, so many things happening beyond my control There was someone barking orders, ordering Serena to be quiet, another one telling someone else to bring the backboard, and yet another, speaking calmly to me as he straightened out my arm, telling me he was going to unwrap the towel and that there would be some pain. I looked up and saw the face of a police officer - or was it a paramedic? - I could no longer tell. So many people I didn't recognize, I thought. But over his shoulder I saw a face I did recognize, white as sheet. I heard his voice telling everyone this was his house, demanding that he needed to get inside the bathroom, to get to her.

I have to get to her. Someone, please let me through. Is she alright?

Then Serena shouting his name, saying I'm so sorry, Erik. I tried to stop her, I swear. I didn't do it. She did to herself.

My mouth opened. I wanted to tell them she was lying. But everything around me spun out of control and I felt myself falling, the world turning snow white. But a question remained inside my mind. Her, I thought. He had to get to her. Who could he possibly mean?

Did he mean me? Or did he mean Serena?

The next few minutes went by as if like a dream, each vision seen through some unwanted photo filter slapped in front of my eyes. The voices grew and faded into echoes, and together, they drifted in and out of my stream of consciousness. I didn't know what was going on exactly, as the paramedics began working on my wounds - but I did know two things.

I'd never felt so scared in my life. And so alone.