What it's like to be awkward.

Did you say bi-polar love?

I watch the blood trickle down my arm as I hear yet another shout from my parents down stairs.

Great job Scarlett, that's the second fight you've started this week, and it's Wednesday.

"Well I'm not a fucking chef bitch! Why don't you cook if you're so good!" I can hear dads' oh so lovely reply to my step mum.

Another slice is drawn on my wrist. Why am I causing my family so much grief?

If I hadn't of accidently stormed in the kitchen, maybe they would be calmer?

It's not your fault Scar... They would have had a bad day.
That stupid voice from my heart keeps whispering gently to me. It obviously hasn't whispered loud enough, since I feel like shit, and all I feel is quite literally, the blood sweat and tears.

If it weren't for you hiding your feelings, and being moody, your family might actually listen to you, idiot!

Thanks, head. my brain always says the nicest things to me.

I throw the knife across the bathroom, aiming for the towel pile, and missing quite hugely.

The loud clanging noise echoes through the bathroom as I bite my lip viciously, cursing myself in frustration.

Why do I have to make things worse?

I hear a loud knock on the bathroom door and freeze.

"Who's in there?" I hear my stepmum's usually steady voice, waver.

I clear my throat and try to sound calm,

"Me"
Great answer.

"Scar?" That name makes me cringe,

"Yes it's me, Scarlett."

"Oh, um, can we talk when you're done?"

No. no no no no no! Absolutely not!! That answer doesn't leave my mouth though, "Uh sure..."

"Thankyou.." I hear a sniff and then her footsteps retrieving.

Shit

I stand by the sink staring at myself in the mirror. I look horrible! My normally pink flushed face is a pasty white, with red rings all around my blue eyes. Instead of my usual dark blue eyes, they look clear, compared to the red. Mascara smears are on my cheeks and my lips are the colour of blood.

I blast the tap on, and wash my arm, rinsing the thin blood off my arm and wrist.

I turn it off and dry my arm. more blood comes to the surface, and I swear.

I reach for the concealer and dab it on my wrist, ok 'dab' is a misleading verb, I pour it on.

I stare at it blankly. it looks horrible..you can see smeared blood and orange concealer all over my wrist.

Well.. if I'm going to be an idiot and slice my wrist, I have to face the consequence, which is the after math, facing my parents.

I wash my face and add fresh mascara to look a little less like death.

Pulling down my sleeves, I look at my self in the mirror again.

Happy, or at least satisfied, with my cover up, I trudge out of the bathroom, and walk to my room, to find a sobbing Leah. I've only seen my step mum cry a few times, and that was when her and dad would break up for a few days, so this couldn't be good.

"Hey.." I say awkwardly,

She looks up from her lap, sniffing and then smiles faintly at me.

"Um, do you want to talk to both of us? Rosa and I, I mean.." I ask, not wanting to be alone with Leah when she tells me they are finally divorcing,