It was under control

eight

Jules

I can hear the crackling of my dry, scarred skin now, like a blank canvas as I would engrave red lines stroke after stroke hearing the crackle of the canvas; breaking from the work of my own hands. I've always been good at art but it's changed now to painting on a different canvas, one that can't be painted over once the damage is done. One that can't be replaced or fixed, one that isn't new and one that is badly broken; beyond repair. I can just imagine the urges of self harming, it would always be my outlet, my form of punishment for eating.

"Ready for snack?" Tom asked eagerly as he stepped into my room, to be met with an even messier room than when he was last here. The bedcovers chucked all over the floor, clothes like confetti on the ground, worksheets and books ripped up in an angry rage; and a small hole broken into the room. He looked at the wall then back at me, quite frankly I couldn't tell you what happened, my outlet of ripping and destroying me room didn't release my anger this time. So as tears escaped my eyes, a fist to the wall followed. I was calmer now, hiding my bleeding fist from Tom's view. "Can I see the damage?" He knelt down in front of me, not crouching like usual, probably because he knew he would be there a long time trying to convince me. My head was on my knees, he reluctantly placed his hand on my head, careful not to push my boundaries.

"Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you Jules, i'm worried about you, let me see your fist love."

"It's fine."

"Well there is blood on the wall, so i'm not too sure of that." He rubbed my head with his thumb, before leaving the space vacant and moving his hand to my shoulder, then down to my right arm and pulling it from its hidden position. "Let me see Jules." I finally stopped being difficult and let my arm lose. "Ouch. Let's go clean this up, then get a snack yeah?"

"Will you clean it?"

"Um, usually a doctor will do it. But do you want me to do it? Will you feel more comfortable with that?"

"Yes."

"Okay, if I do it you have to promise me you will be good, no misbehaving, no acting out Jules, yes? Come on then let's go to the medical centre."  We made our way down the corridor, exiting the girls unit and being met with the glass bridge. I stood there, watching the world go by, I leant on the banister, a world full of freedom, yet I am stuck in what felt like a glass box, never truly feeling real or free. But the one thing that makes me feel free is the one thing that's trapping me, like i'm an animal in a cage that I can never escape from, being kept a prisoner from the thing everyone desires most...happiness. "A penny for them?" I remember Tom saying this to me before, I think it was what made me connect to him, it's what made me realise that I actually wanted to open up to him, he never approached things the way everyone else did, and that's what I liked about him.

I chuckled, it took me back to simpler times, I took one last look outside, swiftly turning around and hugged Tom, I let out a deep breath, I felt so bad that I had pushed him away and shut him out. The only person who cared for me, the only person I wanted to open up to. I'm such and idiot, I regret it deeply now. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, I don't know why I did it. I was angry and I didn't want to hurt you."

"I get that, but you wouldn't of hurt me Jules, I have pretty tough skin from this job. But do you know what did hurt me, hurt me like no other, was when you ran away and I found you. I don't want you feeling bad, that's not my intention of this, but I want you to realise how much you mean to me, how much I care for you, so don't push me away, i'm here to help you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't need to say sorry. Let's get you cleaned up." As I sat down on the medical bed, I let my legs dangle and I fluttered them ever so slightly, while Tom retrieved the medical equipment. I was staring around the room, until Tom placed his gloved hand on my knee to stop me from potentially kicking into him. He placed a dressing towel over my lap, to prevent the cleaning solution from getting onto me. "Hand." He held his gloved hand out for me to rest mine on, I hesitantly lifted my hand to his, while anxiously looking up at him; to which he gave me that reassuring smile. He cleaned the wound and bandaged it, as he was clearing away, Doctor White marched into the room. He took one look at me, and his face changed, as he strode over to retrieve a file that was on the desk.