Behave Yourself

Control

Chapter 14

*Short Chapter*

*TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SELF HARM! IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER!*

Tuesday, 12:31 pm

In the bunker

Katie's POV

I'm in the bathroom, looking for Dad's razors. I didn't wanna do this, but now I think I do. I need control, and my body seems to be the only thing in my life that I have any control over. The only thing I can control, is what happens to my body. I can't control what happens at school, or who picks on me, or why it keeps happening. I can't control the things that happen to me at school, no matter how badly I want to. I can't control anything. And the more I realize that, the worse I feel about myself. I can't control what happens in my life, but I can control my body, and what's on it. If I could find Dad's razors, I could get started, but I can't find them. Did he put them in the cabinet that I can't reach? He definitely put them in there. If I can climb up, on the counter, then I'll be able to reach that cabinet. And I can get one of Dad's razors out. I carefully climb up, on the counter, and open the cabinet above it. Yeah. Dad's razors are here. I get one out and get off the counter. I make sure I locked the door before I start taking the razor apart. I have to get one of the blades out. Once that's done, I hold my wrist over the sink, and start running the blade across.

Katie: 1. I whisper to myself as I make the first cut.

I let the blood drip in to the sink for a few seconds, then I start making another cut. This is wrong. This is so wrong. But it feels so good to finally have some control over something in my life. This might hurt, but I'm the one doing it. I'm the one who gets to say to how many I have, or how deep they are. No one else can control this. I'm the only one who has a say on this.

Katie: 2.

I hate that I've come to this. Doing this for control. It would probably be easier to talk to someone about the way that I'm feeling. But I'd rather not bother anybody with my own personal shit. I can handle this on my own. I'm handling it right now. And I'd say that I'm handling it just fine. So I don't need to talk to anybody.

Katie: 3.

I think that having control is important. I think that it's important to have control over things in your own life. Things like what you can or can't do. Or who you can or can't talk to. Or who you let in to your life. Or who you let out of your life. I don't have any friends. I get bullied on pretty much a daily basis. I never get any sleep because I'm always focused on getting bullied. Dad and Uncle Dean are always busy, so I can't talk to them when I want to. I don't have a Mom. That's one of the many things that Penelope picks on me for. She thinks it's funny that my Mom died. I don't think dead parents are something to be made fun of for, but that's just me and my own personal opinion. Which often doesn't seem to matter as much as I'd like it to.

Katie: 4.

I hear footsteps coming towards the bathroom. I better clean this up. It sounds like Dad. He walks really hard. Either that or he's just really big and can't help how hard he walks. I turn on the sink and let the blood rinse out. That's my blood. Going down the drain. It's not long before there's a knock on the door.

Dad: Katie? You ok in there?

Katie: Um, yeah. I'm fine.

That's gotta be the biggest lie I've ever told, in my entire life. But if he knew how badly I need his help, he'd feel like he has to help me. And he wouldn't be able to do what he actually wants to do. He'd be bothered. And I don't wanna bother him. He doesn't deserve to be bothered, just because I can't handle my own emotions. That wouldn't be fair to him.

Dad: Are you sure? You've been in there a while. Everything ok?

Katie: I'm fine, Dad. I was just in the shower. I'll be out in a minute.

Dad: Alright. Try and make it quick. I gotta use the bathroom.

Katie: Ok. Just give me like 15 more minutes.

Dad: Ok.

I get a towel from the cabinet, under the sink, and clean my wrist as best as I can. What the hell am I supposed to do with this razor? And the blade? I can probably flush the blade, but the razor isn't gonna fit down the toilet. I'll just put it in my pocket and throw it away, in the trash can in my room. I put the razor and the blade in my pocket, and roll my sleeves down. I've gotta take this towel with me, too. But it's pretty small, so it might fit in my hoodie's pocket. It does. It fits in my hoodie's pocket. Now I have to unlock the door and face Dad, like everything's ok. But everything is ok, so there's nothing to worry about. I unlock the door and see Dad, standing there.

Katie: It's all yours.

Dad: Thanks, Munchkin.

I walk around him and start walking to my room. My wrist burns a little, but I don't regret what I did. I finally got to feel some kind of control. It's probably not the best way to get control, but it's working. I feel better, and that's all that matters. Once to my room, I put the towel in my laundry basket, and hide the razor and the razor blade. Now I just have to see how long I can hide this for.