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Salvation Lingers

A/N: Before anything, self-harm and other mild rape topics things ensue here.

I keep losing inspiration for this, I promise I'm trying my best.

Some tiny origins I suppose. The dark ones at least, HUE.

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There were things I couldn't tell my dad. Things that would only worsen our family situation.

Aren Hirsch lived with his two children in a nice cottage at Bavaria, his eldest daughter, Diesel Andrea ( that's me ) was 17 years old. His son, Gideon Felix was 12 years old. This little family had lost an important member during the early 2000's  in an unfortunate car accident against the usual truck taking shipping merchandise, thus leaving my young brother and I left only with our father and a dead mother. It was quite the sad story indeed, yes.

And if matters weren't any good yet, they were certainly getting worse. 

You see, I am not one to be very open with others hence why I usually blow up. Like that time I blew up in class and threw a crazy glue stick at Melanie in the middle of art class because she wouldn't keep quiet on how I liked fellow classmate Luke because he wore a nice cologne. The glue stick got stuck on her forehead. It's crazy glue. You figure how that ended. I got suspended, no I didn't mind. Neither did my dad. Because that meant spending time with him at home and having a close cheat sheet for my homework.

But that wasn't half as bad as what I found myself doing to myself in the bathroom at the evening, locked up there, with bewildered blonde hair cascading on me. The thing that freaks me out is that I thought I'd never do this, but it had gotten so far. So so far and out of my hands. You may have guessed this by now. It was so hard to find a blade that wouldn't ultimately cause my sudden death but I managed to find a tiny razor in the sewing box near the study room next to the bathroom. I had been ultimately low, reached the lowest I could, never thinking this would actually happen but it did. And it slid on my white skin with such a dexterity, I flinched but kept on. Keeping those tiny and numerous cuts coming. I didn't want to kill myself, no, no, I just wanted to let out some heat. Sitting there on the cold-ass floor of the bathroom, I raised my gaze from the little blood dots forming from the wounds and to the ceiling. You see, there was this odd thing about how some simple words could affect you so horribly and lave you frozen and out of mind. I was just a tall, slim blonde girl with a passion for video games and programming. I never ought to think I would be so let down by a couple nobodies that insulted me. 

"Ah, arme Hure."

"hoffe Sie verrotten."

Here go those stupid words again.

Bullying. Rape.

Did the anti-abuse part of school fall down and nobody mentioned it or did we all forget that talk we had where you aren't supposed to touch girls if they say no. 

I suppose building a thick skin was never my thing. Other than just shedding it to find a new one to wear, see if it protected me enough. I just let myself get fooled around a bit, I have a sense of humour. However, they carried it too far and that costed me my Red Hot Chili Peppers tee, a pair of brand new Levis, and an inmediate appointment to the emergency room. And a new phone. Can you believe it? Josh was enough of an asshole to take my phone and my now non-existent virginity just because. Just because. He didn't even have a reason to. Cue me being poked around for it after a month of personal confinement and comfort given to me by both father and brother. Felix was nice enough to tell the elder brother of his best friend, who kindly punched a lesson on Josh. I could've done that myself, if the pain between my legs could handle it at the moment.

Poked around school for the sudden "news", I had a few who I had left some trust for. There was Dieter, who would always provoke that silly laugh that combined itself with a snort. 

"Fuck 'im, right? Not literally of course."

"He had a short dick, I'm sure of it." Amy would intervene before I even replied. She seemed like the typical best friend, and she was! But then there was the dirty little secret she had that she was into teachers. But to keep that out of the way, she dated an upperclass man. Because, cheerleaders are supposed to do that, you know. 

But... None of it helped. None.

I could be helped if I cooperated, dad would say. But what was there for me to say to be "saved" ?

"Yes hello m'am psychiatrist. I'm Diesel. I got bulllied and raped not long ago. Please don't send me to group therapy or it will end worse."

I liked my own method of sulking in misery and it certainly didn't feel pleasant once the pain started kicking in. But hell, how would I even explain this? I rather not. I certainly rather not. 

After cleaning the little red dots I took a shower. Another one. Tried to dress and make my hair look decent. 

Then I thought about it. Maybe I could get a tattoo to cover them. Art and soemthing I've always wanted. Bingo.

For now I would only wear long sleeves, I suppose.

"Nice and cold bath?" Pop would turn his look from the dinner he was cooking to me, a huge smile on that old and bearded face of his.

"Ja. It was good."

"Diesel! I got a new game to try out if you want." Felix would yell from the living room. 

"On my way you little monster."

Yes, I would remain quiet. 

How on Earth was I going to get a tattoo woud be a plan I'd need to work out with Dieter and Amy. We'd need to go to Berlin.

"Diesel!"

But now I would sit and go see what Felix was on about.