Unnatural Love

Chapter 5

"I'm sorry"

The thick red blood running down my fingers, covering my knuckles and streaming to my palm. This is happening way to often. I look down at my newly spiked hand, with a numb face.

The drawer underneath the sink held a pair of tweezers, the pair I used to pull out the little shards I couldn't get with my fingers. I watched as the glass seemed to slow down when falling into the trash. The screeches it made as it scratched along the metal bin.

Rinsing the blood off in the cold tap water. Watching as it spins down the drain, the perfect whiteness of the sink now temporarily messed up by the red guest. The big plastic medicine box underneath the towels in the cabinet, held ointment, gauze, rubbing alcohol, but no bandages.

Concluding to my last resort. I take one of my cloths, biting down on it while pouring the alcohol over the cuts, yet not seeming to flinch at the burning sensation, numbing my knuckles. Cleaning them out before wrapping the thin netted fabric around my hand. But even after all that, is it bad that the pain didn't hurt?

I exit out of the bathroom, leaving my mess everywhere, not having the energy to clean it. Stepping over towards the long window placed in the stone, closing the thick white curtains that hung over it, making the rest of the room dark.

My head was aching, every step I took concluding in a harsh throb, every breath that went in, felt like throw up on the way out. The back of my throat soar from the loud yells that were continuously escaping my weak vocal cords. And my nose running from the conjuring buildup.

The duvet cover that was once spread nicely across my mattress, was now wrapped around my hollow body. Staring at blank spot on my wall, feeling numb and tired.

A warm tear slide down my face, glazing over the arch of my nose, and dropping down on my other cheek.

I felt suffocated, paralyzed, trapped inside myself, unable to take a breath of fresh air. I hated myself. I hated what my father made me think of myself. I hate him. The person that is supposed to be there for me, love me, care for me has now planted a designated picture of myself in my head, making me look like the monster.

But I can't hate my father, though he too hates me. He's the only person I've got left...

"Open the door." Said a voice from the hall, pulling me from my frozen trance. The doorknob twisting vigorously, and loud knocks being banged every now and then.

A fatal whisper, that's all that'll come out. Trying to convince the person to leave, that I want to be alone, to go away. But they don't, they do the exact opposite, "Alohomora."

The door swings open, the bright light from the hall shining on my face, making me squint. An angry dirty blonde with two trays of food, waltz in.

Lunch with Cedric, I totally forgot. I look at him looking at me. My eyes apologetic, and my lip beginning to quiver again. His face softens immediately, placing the trays onto my desk and speeding over to me.

The mattress curving around where he sits, having me slightly slide closer to him. My hair was tucked behind my ear, his warm hand placed on the side of my cheek.

A fire forming under my eyelids, the burning sensation making me slam the closed. More tears dripping out, and I pull my head away from his hold. I didn't like having people see me cry, it just made me more embarrassed.