Every Waking Moment

Chapter 5

(AN: okay so quick TW, loads of self-harm and parental abuse here so just stop reading if you don't wanna see that)

*Wednesday - 1:03 AM*

I tossed and turned, trying to get even a wink of sleep. But of course, the thoughts in my head kept me awake. 

Yet again, I kept thinking about how nice it would be like to just die instead of living out my life like this. Every single moment of every single day is the same. Insults, beatings, disgusted looks, pity, anger, sadness, all relentlessly hurled at me left and right. 

'It hurts. The thought of knowing tomorrow won't be a better day because let's face it, better days belong to better people. And based on the way I'm treated, I'm no better than a piece of shit.'

'I just want an escape. Some place I can run to where nobody else knows. Some place I can scream my heart out where nobody can hear. Some place I can disappear to for weeks, even months, and have no one to remind me how much of a mistake my existence is.'

'I don't want to die. But seeing as though that place I'm yearning for has a lesser chance to exist than me dying, then I really don't have a choice now do I?'

I felt like sobbing, but I couldn't. My eyes were dried up. I'm so drained to the point where even my body has given up. 'It's no use.' I thought 'Crying won't make anything better since nothing will change even if you cry till you run out of breath.' I started clawing at my skin. Pinching and tearing the skin on my hand was the only thing I could think of doing.

'I hate this. I hate me. I hate them.' These thoughts coursed through my head as the only sounds I could hear were my nails scratching my skin till it bled. 'More. This isn't enough. You think this is enough to make up for you existing?' I kept going, tiny drops of blood went out from my skin. 'More. More. More. More. More.' My vision blurred as my blanket started to get stained red. 'More. More. More. More.' 

It's like I was running out of breath every time I stopped tearing at my flesh. 'More. More. More. More. More. Mo-!'

There was silence. My thoughts got cut off because I heard something hit my window and I came to my senses. The only thing I could see at that moment was my left arm, dripping in my blood with my blanket looking like a mosaic painting.

My eyes trailed up my arm and I saw the back of my hand, with the skin peeled off in chunks and blood oozing out. 

My chest loosened up and I could breathe. My vision cleared up and I looked out my window to see what hit it, but the only thing I could see was that glowing thing from before. But this time, it looked red instead of white. It kept glitching in the air, leaving red and black streaks till it vanished. 

I was listless. I didn't know how to react. I just went to the bathroom, got bandages, and wrapped my arm up in a daze. 

I looked at my clock, *1:44 AM* "Damn... so I've been making myself bleed for half an hour huh?" I muttered. 

*****

I woke up with a migraine and checked the time, *6:02 AM* I groaned and used my arms to sit myself up in bed. But for some reason, my left hand stung. I checked to see why and saw my hand wrapped in bandages that have been soaked red. 'Oh, right.'

I took a bath, changed my bandages, and got ready for school. After getting ready, I went downstairs to eat.

Surprisingly, my dad was still at the kitchen table when usually at this time, he would've been at work.

He was answering emails on his phone, so I made my way to the fridge to grab some milk.

My dad looked over and saw that I was only getting milk and nothing else so he asked me "Max aren't you going to eat anything?" "Oh I'm not that hungry." I replied. "But still you should eat something, you're as skinny as a twig- wait... what is that on your hand?" he asked again, eyeing my left hand. 

I quickly hid it behind my back and said "I uh... just bumped this onto something sharp and it bled so I put some bandages on it." 'He won't buy that.'  My dad raised his eyebrow and said "Let me see how big it is." 'Shit. I knew it.'  "This isn't a big deal" I assured him "It's just a scratch" "Really? Then why did you put bandages on it? Just hurry up and come here." 

Well there's no getting out of this now. I hesitantly walked towards him and he yanked my left hand so he could see it better.

He took off my bandages and for a split second, I saw a look of pure horror in his eyes "Max what the hell is this?" he asked, sounding almost desperate. "I scratched myself last night till I bled..." I muttered. "But why?! Why would you do that!" "I don't know, I guess I just felt like it." "You felt like it?" he asked, scoffing.

"W-why are you unhappy? Are you mad at us?" "No! It's not that!" I yelled. "Then what is it?!" He got up from his chair and started walking towards me "Why did you do that?!" "I- I don't know..." "You don't know? Well what do you know?!" 

"Do you want to get hurt? Huh? ANSWER ME!" he demanded. My mind went blank, I didn't know what to say. I just stared at the ground.

He laughed bitterly "Oh does your silence mean yes? Well in that case, I can just hurt you myself instead of you doing it, how 'bout that huh?!" he fumed. "I- I don't want that." I squeaked out "No no, based on this shit it seems like YOU LIKE PAIN!" 

'Please. Please don't. I beg you.' He grabbed onto my collar and landed a punch across my cheek. I fall to the ground as he walks towards me to hit me again. A tear fell from my eye and rolled down my cheek. "Why are you crying?" he asked while laughing bitterly "Isn't this what you want!"

Each punch reverberated through my body like an echo. "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?!" my dad screamed while beating me up "YOU WANT ME TO HURT YOU INSTEAD?!" 

I gasp for breath before each punch my dad throws at me. I start sobbing and my chest tightened up. 'Why? WHY does this hurt more than when Alex's lackeys do it?' I wonder.