Depersonalization

4

'How was school?' Elijah asked me. He was busy in the kitchen, wearing yellow cheese pattern apron. He had crazy esthetic which I recently found out when I started living with him at Elijah's apartment. It was small with things strewn here and there. The state of the apartment made it look like it was not made for anyone except Elijah. I gulped the rising bile on smelling the apartment.

'It was fine. However, for some reason that boy Marcellus was quite friendly and overly familiar.'

'Marcellus Thomas? That boy always behaves like that. Quite the looker huh? Extremely rich too'

'Whatever. It really felt unusual.'

'It must have, it has been a while since we never had something normal in our lives' Elijah said coming out of the kitchen with a plate filled with meat. Sauced and sliced into tiny bits. He had a lean built but strong arms. However, his major concern was his papery dry skin and weak brown eyes. He was growing old both in terms of years and appearance.

'Make good friends with him if you do not want it to happen again. or at least do not get on his bad side'

'I can guess that much myself. You do not need to tell me'

'I need to kiddo. You cannot go on bullied for your whole life you know. You still have that anger in you. Tame it or else it will spread like wild fire' Elijah said while eating his food.

'How can you eat this. God! That is why the apartment was smelling. Did you go hunting again?' I looked at him, irritated by his antics.

'Speaking God's name in front of the devil? How interesting! Well, for your information it is from previous hunt.'

'Clean the kitchen I will be making 'real' and 'normal' food for us after that'

'Thank you little Azzie'

'Shut up' I took the white bag which contained my clothes and went to a small room Elijah had appointed me. I was thankful that it did not have the rotten and disgusting smell that was spread everywhere in the apartment. It only had one small square window overviewing the roadside. The ceiling was high which looked as if it was especially made as a store room in a two-room apartment

I sat down on the cold floor, head held in my hands, giving a dejected look. I was tired of living. Tired of trying to live and trying to die. The thread of life tightening whenever I give life a chance and loosening when it feels to give up. It infuriated me that the thread has not snapped till now. How much will I suffer until it breaks? Thoughts like this fills my head every day and every day I come to the conclusion to end it. I slowly took out the paper cutter that I had always kept and removed the oversized watch from my twig like arms. Twenty-three scars on my smooth white skin came into view. They were all too deep to be made by a paper cutter which only meant one thing - each scar was inflicted at least five times. Twenty-three scars, a hundred and fifteen wounds inflicted on my small body. I took the cutter and placed it on my skin ready to start another line of cuts.

'Hi Aziel I am Marcellus'

'You know I can play Chinese flute; shall I play it for you?'

The innocent smile of Marcellus. His excited Azure eyes and messy brown hair came into my memory. The familiar scent of lavender filled my nose again.

Not today. I might not be able to go school tomorrow.

My own line of thoughts surprised me

'Argh! Seriously! Kind people are seriously the worse. They give false hope and always remain ambiguous.