The Signing

Cut It Out

        "I'm home!" I called to Katrina as I entered through the front door. My dad doesn't usually get home from work until somewhere around 8:30, so it would just be Katrina and I in the house for a while.

        "Okay, I'm in the kitchen," she called back to me. I slid off my Vans and set my backpack and Target bag down on the first step of the staircase before heading into the kitchen.

        "Katrina?"

        "Yeah?" She turned her attention away from the bills she was paying to look up at me.

        "I have some news," I started, figuring that I should tell her what Dez surprised me with earlier today. A smile spread across my lips at the slight thought of 5sos and I almost forgot that I was trying to have a conversation. "So Desiree won tickets to go to a meet and greet with 5 Seconds of Summer, and then to their concert afterwards. It's in two months, so we don't have to worry about school or anything, but could I go?" I tried to act like this wasn't a big deal to me so I didn't look like a freak, but in all honesty, I was dying inside.

        I watched as Katrina averted her eyes to the ground, filling me with more doubts and fears as the seconds passed agonizingly slow. She was obviously thinking about how she should react to this. I knew she didn't like 5sos: she was always telling me that their songs were too raunchy and that I should listen to some real music like Beethoven. My dad was on the same page as her, calling them 'just boys,' though they meant so much more to me than that.

        "You can go," she began as I perked my head up and looked at her with a huge grin on my face. I knew there was going to be a catch, but I guess I figured that if I had a giantass smile for long enough, she would change her mind about the second part. "But only if you get an A in precalc by the end of the year."

        "What?! I have a C+ in the class right now, which will probably end up going down to a C once he grades the tests we took today! I don't think that it's humanly possible to get that up to an A!"

        "I'll accept an A-, but nothing lower than that. And you better be on your best behavior from now until then if you want to go."

        "But that's--"

        "No buts. It is what it is. Take it or leave it."

        "Fine, I'll take it!" I was certain that I wouldn't be able to meet them. There just was no possible way to get my grade up to an A- before the end of the year. I figured taking the deal and failing it would be better than giving it all away right then and there. My body began walking out of the kitchen and to the stairs, grabbing my bags to take up to my room. I dumped my backpack and bag on my bed, but walked right back out of the door. I didn't have any mental control over my body. It took itself to the bathroom and closed the door. Tears were welling up in my eyes from believing that I would miss my only chance to see 5sos in person because of my stepmom. My body grabbed the razor from the shower and walked over to the sink.

        My mind finally realized what I was doing, but not before I had dragged the blades across the flesh of my wrist twice, creating six parallel diagonal lines. My brain finally took over my body and threw the razor across the room, hitting the wall and falling to the ground. I looked back down at my wrist, the wounds now spilling blood into the sink. My tears blended with the blood droplets. All that I could do was look at what I had done to myself and cry.

        It had been two years since I cut myself last. I never thought I would fall back into that habit, especially over something so little as meeting a band. I didn't understand why this had pushed me over the edge, but I did understand why I cut. It used physical pain to distract me from the emotional pain I was feeling. However, I knew that once the bleeding was done, the scars would be a constant reminder that I was weak, causing more emotional pain and a horrible addictive cycle.

        I was finally able to move again and turned on the faucet to rinse my cuts and the sink. I dried my left forearm with a tissue, not wanting to get my towel bloody, and sat down on the ground with my back against the cabinets. I cried softly, not wanting Katrina to find out about what happened, but my voice eventually broke through my sobs and I no longer had control over the noises I made.

        "Violet?" Katrina called from what sounded like the staircase. "Violet, what is going o--"She gasped as she opened the door, interrupting her own question. I looked up at her for a second, but couldn't stand to see her face. I shifted my eyes to the ground and expected the worst, which I knew was what was going to come. "Violet, why did you do this? This is completely unacceptable! I thought you were past this!"

        I knew her words hurt me more than she intended, or at least I liked to tell myself that. "Sorry." I mumbled.

        "No, honey, don't be sorry. I know this is a difficult habit to break, I just thought you were over it already." I knew she didn't fully understand what I was feeling, but she wanted it to sound like she cared and was being a good parent. "Go ahead and get yourself cleaned up. We're going to dinner at the sushi place to celebrate your birthday," She said as she sighed. "We'll talk about this with your father tomorrow." I nodded and she left the room, grabbing the razor as she went.

        That was one of the things that annoyed me about my cutting issue. Katrina always thought that I couldn't have any sharp objects around me at any point in time, but it wasn't like that at all. I only felt the urge to cut once in a while, and only at that moment is it helpful to not have pointy things around. All of the rest of the time, it was more of a hassle than an improvement. I'd have to ask for my razor any time i wanted to shave my legs, and heaven forbid I have an assignment for school that involves scissors.

        I decided to take a quick shower since I felt awful with my makeup running down my face and small blood trickles running down my arm. The warm water stung in my fresh wounds, but I got used to it pretty quickly.

        Once out of the shower, I headed to my room to pick out my outfit. I saw that I had a text from Dez reading: "Happy bday btdubs." I lightly smiled at the text, but it faded as quickly as it had come. I decided to wear a gray long-sleeved t-shirt, for obvious reasons, light-wash skinny jeans, my black combat boots and a coral scarf. I left my makeup fairly basic and allowed my wavy brown hair to fall wherever it pleased. I took one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs to hop in the car with Katrina.

        Overall, it was a pretty typical birthday celebration. The sushi was amazing and I got a few small presents and money from my dad and Katrina. Once home, I told my parents that I was going to call it a night. It was only 9:40, but I had a very emotional day and was ready to let my dreams consume my reality for a few hours.

        Once in bed I grabbed my songbook and used my words to absorb some of the pain I was feeling. It was only a couple lines and I didn't know what is was yet, but it went like this:

        I can't take it anymore

        Watching the droplets hit the floor

        Somebody drag me from this reality

        And bring me back some sanity

        That was all I could come up with, but I would work on it more later. I just needed to sleep.