Wonderland

❅H27❅ Consequences

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Heather's POV

Consequences

Brayden never came back to my room like he had said so earlier today.

I shouldn't be surprised. I should be used to it. I should be used to people leaving me now. I should be used to not taking people too seriously.

I trailed my hand down my left arm, feeling the healed skin there from the time when I had clawed myself. I traced tiny circles around them, examining them under my eyes. Then, without a second thought, I dug my nails into them, wincing at the pain. When I let go, four new nail-sized wounds appeared, exuding red. I didn't even cry as I looked at them.

I brushed a thumb across the section of skin that was bleeding red. As quick as it had come, the pain was gone. Frustrated, I dug my nails into my skin again -longer. I winced when I released my fingers, but again, the pain dispersed a few seconds later. I angrily clenched my hands, furious at how short the pain was. I opened my drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. I held it over my skin, my hand unwavering.

Without a second thought, I let the blade pierce my skin, sucking in a breath when I felt the pain. Like dragging a pocketknife through the tape on a cardboard box, I dragged the scissors against my pale skin, watching as it left a trail of open skin. I didn't even flinch. I just watched as the blade split the skin open. Just before the blade could cut into my arteries, I pulled it out and set it aside. I watched as crimson droplets oozed out of my skin, spilling over my arm and onto the table.

No tears came out when I saw the blood. All I could feel was relief. I closed my eyes and focused on the pain from the cut. I couldn't allow myself to think about anything else. If I did, then the emotional pain would come back again, and I couldn't allow that to happen. I just wanted to feel the physical pain. I wanted to feel the physical pain taking away my emotional pain. Anything was better than emotional pain. What was worse about emotional pain was that you couldn't heal it with medication. You could only heal it with time — but that didn't work most of the time for me.

I could feel the blood pulsing out of the wound. Thump-thump-thump-thump...

I could hear the trees rustling outside of my room. I could hear my neighbors talking through the walls. I could see how dark the clouds were and how rain was inevitable.

I suddenly had the urge to go outside.

Pulling the sleeve of my sweater down, I numbly made my way outside. It was cold out — really cold — but I didn't bother going back and grabbing a jacket. Besides, why would it matter anyway? I was already cold on the inside.

No sooner had I made it down the Burke-Gilman trail, did it start to rain. It wasn't the light kind of rain, either. It was the downpour kind, the one that left you soaked within minutes without a rain jacket or umbrella.

I didn't care, though. Let it rain. It emphasized my mood just right. I kept walking. The pain was already gone from my left arm. Now, the only pain I could feel was that from the shard-like rain droplets that kept hitting my face as I walked. I didn't know where I was going, but all I knew was that I had to keep walking. I needed to clear my mind.

I felt dizzy. Maybe it was caused by my not eating at all these past few days. My entire stomach was filled with cotton balls and juice. I was surprised I haven't died yet...or choked.

I don't know how long I had been walking, but I stopped when the dizzying feeling in my head became too much. I leaned my body against a tree and inhaled deeply. I lifted my left arm up to make out a few dark red spots on my sleeve.