Finding Yourself

Chapter One

LONDON, DONT DO IT. But I need to, I need to do it. I'm trapped and I can't get out. I'm stuck in this place that I can't escape, because of the people around me, they need me, or so they say.

WE LOVE YOU. Yeah, I know, I just don't believe you.

YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL. If you say so. But no, I'm not. I'm hideous, my face is covered in flaws, my stomach isn't flat. I'm not what society says is beautiful, never have been, never will be.

There is this overwhelming sadness. I feel like everyone is lying to me. No one needs me, no one wants me, no one loves me, I'm not beautiful, and I'm not perfect. I am invisible. I am not necessary. I am not important.

I look down and see the blood trickling off my wrist. Across the room my phone is still buzzing, and it won't stop.

"You needed to do this," whispers a voice in my head, "you needed to escape the only way you can."

I crawl across the room, too weak to walk, grab my phone, and call him.

"Did you do it," asks Micah. Micah has been there for me through everything the past two years. Through all the pain, scars, disappointment, just everything.

I find myself weeping. Tears fall down my face and hit my wounds, which causes them to sting more.

I hear the sound of a motor. Where is it coming from?

"Micah, what are you doing?"

"Well I'm talking to you," he replies, obviously trying to distract me.

"No, you know what I meant. Why is there a car running? Micah! Are you driving out here," I look down at my wrist, thinking about what my parents will think of him randomly showing up.

"Yes, I'm coming to you, you need me to be with you right now. I need me to be with you right now," he says as he drives.

"No, you can't see me like this. You've never seen me like this. I mean you've seen me like this, but you have never seen my wounds. You have never physically been with me, it's always been over the phone," I say, not wanting him to see me like this, but wanting him to be here, be here with me.

"London, I..."

I hear footsteps coming, "shhhh."

"London, honey," oh it's just my mom, "me and your father are going to go buy some groceries, are you going to be okay alone?"

Through my tears I find my voice, "yes, I will."

"Okay, call me if you need anything," my mom says.

But Micah is coming, what if they come home while he is here? What will they think? My parents don't know about my scars, because I'm good at hiding them.

"Mom, wait. Can Micah come over, so I'm not completely alone, it will make me feel safer," I say, hoping my mom will say yes. My parents love Micah, they know that we are just friends, and plus he treats me like his little sister.

"Hm, I guess that will be okay. Yes, he can come, do you want me to call him?"

"No, that's okay, I will just tell him. Thanks, Mom. I love you," I say, wanting to make it sound like I am okay.

"Bye," my mom says, "we will be back in a few hours. Stay safe, I love you, London."

"Who was that," says a voice from my phone: Micah, I forgot I was still talking to him.

"It was just my mom. Her and dad are going to buy groceries, and she said you can come over," I tell him, relieved to have him come over here with my mother's permission.

I hear a car pull up into the driveway, "are you here?"

"Opening the door now," Micah says.

He doesn't hang up the phone, not until he finds me, balled up in the corner of the bathroom. I realize the tiles are stained with blood, and there are still some drops of blood coming from my wounds. "Oh, London," he looks at me, like it hurts him to see me like this, "let's get you cleaned up." He comes over to pick me up, takes me to the bathtub, and sits me down on the edge.

I look at him, wondering why he cares, why he is my friend, why he would do these things for me. He washes my wounds, washes my steins, he takes care of me, he always has. I hope he always will.