"Church Boy."

Regrets

TW-SELF HARM-SUICIDAL THOUGHTS-ATTEMPTED SUICIDE-ABUSE-RAPE-

Then I saw them.

The metallic, shiny razors. I know I shouldn't, but I wanted to see it. I picked up the razor from the corner of the sink and put it to my wrist. Before I moved it any closer, I locked the door and then immediately put my hand back over the sink. 

I glided the razor over my skin, watching as it broke, and the crimson-colored regret started flowing out. "Sinners deserve this." I tell myself, hoping that eventually I'll believe it, so this won't feel bad anymore. 

My blood seeped down my hand and coated the porcelain sink. I smiled as the tears streamed down my face and into the sink as well.

They always told me blood was thicker than water. 

Now, I can't tell as they mix together.

After I finished and I couldn't see the lines from previous episodes because they had been replaced with new ones, I left. Rolling down my sleeves, I walked back into the room with Sal and Larry. "I'm going to see Cassie." I informed. "Who?" Larry asked. "Gibson." I muttered. "You okay, Trav?" Sal asked. "Don't call me that." 

"Sorry."

"Shut the fuck up."

*Time Skip*

I walked to Ms. Gibson's room and knocked quietly. After a second, the door creaked open and there she was. "Travis? What happened, kid? Your daddy been beatin' you again?" she asked, her southern accent heavy and thick. 

(Ms. Gibson's name is gonna be Cassie)

"Sometimes. That's not what this is about, though."

"What happened?"

"I did it again."

"Oh fuck."

"..."

"Come in."

"Okay..."

I walked in and she lit up a cigarette. "Let me see," she demanded. "What?" I ask. "The cuts, let me see." she repeated. I lifted my sleeves and moved my arm to where she could see. She sighed deeply and started. "Why?" she asked, running her fingers over the marks. "I... don't know..." I lied. "Another episode?" she asked. I nodded, silently holding back tears. "Your father...is a sick man..." she commented, grimacing and tightening the grip on my forearm. "I know..." I agreed, letting the tears fall.

She let go of my wrists and pulled me into a hug. She smelled of cigarettes, cheap perfume, and booze. I wasn't used to it. When I was younger, she and my mother were very close. She knew of my father's discipline but never approved. 

I don't get why. Of course, his discipline against mother often made her bleed, but she would always say she would get better. Every time, that's what she said. And, every time, father would hit her until she was on the floor and bloody. 

Often, she would take me with her to Ms. Gibson's apartment. She would stay there until morning and then would drive me to school. One day, she drove me to school and when I got home, she wasn't there. My father said she left and wasn't coming back. 

I was hurt. 

Now, I hated her. She left me and didn't take me with her. She fucking left. No note. No goodbye. That morning, she had sat with me and before she let me out of the car at school, she took her cross and put it around my neck.

*10 years ago*

"Come on, sweetheart." my mother called, grabbing a napkin and walking to the other side of the kitchen, over to me. "Almost done!" I replied, hurriedly trying to finish chewing my breakfast. My mother bent down and wiped the corners of my mouth, smiling gently. 

"Let's go, we don't want to be late, do we?" she asked. I shook my head, still chewing. I quickly finished my food and walked my plate over to the dishwasher, loading it in. My mother scooped me up into her arms and peppered me with kisses all over my face. I giggled as it tickled me. 

"Come on, sweetheart." she said, carrying me to the living room. My mother sat me down and slung my backpack over her shoulder. I looked up at her, her brown hair was straight and silky. Her eyes were green and vibrant, contrasting with her tanned skin. 

"Thanks, Cassie." my mother said, hugging her friend. "Thank you, Ms. Gibson!" I chimed in, smiling. "Of course, Dana." Ms. Gibson responded, pulling away and ruffling my hair. "We better get going, I'll miss you." my mother said, her smile shrinking just the slightest. 

"I'll miss you, too. Is it necessary? I..."

"Yes, Cassie. It is. I can't do it anymore."

"I know."

"..."

"..."

My mother grabbed hold of my hand, gently guiding me to the door. "This isn't goodbye, Cass. It's see you later." my mother said, closing the door behind her as we exited the apartment. "Mommy, what's the difference?" I asked, yanking her arm to grab her attention. "You'll understand when you're older." she answered, monotonous and deadpan. 

I was curious but decided not to ask again. She already gave me an answer. As we loaded into the car, she put my backpack on the passenger floorboard as she buckled me in. 

*Time skip*

The ride was silent and awkward. We created an unspoken tension between us. I remember seeing a few tears fall and her quickly wipe them away. When we arrived, I unbuckled and she handed me my bag. I opened the door and tried to get out but she grabbed my arm. "Travis," she said. 

It caught me off guard. She never called me by name. I didn't like it. I felt like I was trouble. "Yea?" I ask, closing my door. "I want to give this to you." she said, sliding off her cross and holding out her other hand. I did the same and she gently placed it on my hand, curling my fingers around it as the chain fell loosely from my grasp.

"You're giving me this? I thought..." I said, confused and nervous. "Yes, Travis, I am." she said, letting go. "Now, have a good day at school." she said, kissing my forehead and smiling softly so her lips quivered. "Remember baby, it's not goodbye," she stopped.

"it's see you later."