Here we go again.
The familiar feeling of what shouldn't be familiar.
My mind screams,
"DO IT ALREADY."
"YOU DESERVE THIS."
"YOU'RE A MONSTER."
A frigid tingling runs down my spine and courses through my vessel. My vision is nothing but a blur. I've been thrown into an icy ocean, and I just want to grab the life jacket next to me, because I can't swim. I'm drowning. This life jacket could allow me to breathe, but it has a twist. It's covered in thorns. Thorns and roses. I struggle towards it, and grab a corner.
I grasp the blade in my hand. The tiny, shiny piece of metal makes me tremble.
I prepare to put on the life jacket.
I push the blade into my skin, but hesitate to slide it.
A memory claws it's way into my skull.
She's not coming. I'm alone.
My mind- it won't stop shrieking at me. Shrieks so loud that it pierces my ears, making them bleed.
STOP PLEASE. I'll do it...
I roll up my sleeve a bit, and run the blade across my wrist. I repeat the process about 5 times.
The crimson pours down my arm like a waterfall.
Shit. Good thing I'm wearing black.
Suddenly I hear the door creak slightly. My chest flutters about, and threatens to fly away as I swiftly tug my sleeve down. I hold the blade in my fist, hidden from the world around me. I look up. There she is, walking towards me. I smile. She sits next to me, her face blindingly serious. She grabs the arm that the burning slices are on.
"I'm gonna check you, because it's been awhile."
Shit. No. Not today.
I try to tug away, but to no avail. I grasp my sleeve with my other hand, trying my best to hold it up against her force.
"Let me look."
My eyes widen as her force gets stronger.
"Don't-"
But it's too late. My sleeve drifts up, revealing the still-bleeding cuts. My brain shuts down. My body paralyzes. A sharp tingling runs throughout me, and it wraps around my chest, suffocating me.
I dare to look up. She's holding my wrist. I turn towards her face, only to be filled with such a strong sense of regret and guilt that burns all over my skin.
Her face had pure horror plastered on it. It's indescribable. The look burns itself into my skull, and makes me shudder from chills.
"Kira- I'm... I'm so sorry."
My voice is monotone and shaky.
She seems to snap back into reality, shaking her head slightly.
"It's ok. Come on, we need to clean you up."
She stands up and helps me up. My legs feel like they're glued to the floor. I tug my sleeve down, and we walk towards the bathroom
She checks the bathroom to make no one is around, then brings me towards a sink and tugs my sleeve up. She dispenses a few paper towels, and runs them under the water. Then, very carefully, she dabs on the wounds. It stings a bit, but my numbness takes away most of it. I glance from her work to her face. Her gaze appears to be melancholy.
"I'm sorry"
I can't help but to repeat it. I've hurt her. I can't fix this, or erase it.
"It's ok. It's ok. You're gonna be okay. We are okay."
I look back down at her cleaning my cuts. Tears fill my eyes, daring to spill out at any given moment.
I've never had anyone clean my wounds before. I've never had anyone there for me, until now.
My jaw trembles. She dries off the cuts, the bleeding now minimal. I pull my sleeve down and face her. We lock eyes for a moment, silently sharing our pain and fears without a word.
"It's okay."
But it isn't okay. How could I do this to you? I just wanted to hurt myself, not you too. I shake my head.
She wraps me in a warm embrace. One of my tears decide to venture down my face. She pulls away.
"It's okay. You'll be okay."
We both walk back to the room we were in beforehand and sit where we were
She puts her hand on my leg, attempting to comfort me.
"It'll be okay."
I snap back into reality.
I can't hurt her again. Or anyone else.
No matter how bad I want to hurt myself.
No matter how bad I feel I deserve it.
I can't bear to see any more hurt faces. They cut deeper than any blade I've ever owned.
I put my blade up, fighting every urge in my body.
I take a few deep breaths, then lay down on my bed.
I must stay strong. I must fight this, despite my head telling me otherwise. Everyone says my head is wrong. That it tells me lies. I never know which side to believe.
We've fought this urge for another day.
Whatever happens tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be fighting the whole time.
This road to recovery is harder than anything I've faced yet, but I'll be damned if I don't fight every step of the way.
I'm just glad that those who care about me are there for me, even if I don't understand why they care.
Thanks to them, I am fighting the sickness of my mind.
My eyes grow heavier, and everything fades to nothingness.
Dedicated to my closest friend, B.W.
Thank you for being there for me
