The Party Scene Saga: Stories Yet To Unfold

Part 9

"I really like you, Lily." he breathed.

My heart skipped a beat. Was he actually being serious? Loads of boys used to say it at my old school, but it turned out they never meant it. But the look in Jack's eyes told me he was serious. Those big brown eyes that reminded me so much of an adorable puppy screamed sincerity every time I glanced into them.

"Like, more than a friend?" I eventually asked, my breath catching slightly in my throat.

He nodded. A small smile formed on his lips as he wrapped his arms around me. I felt myself mirror his smile and I wrapped my own arms around his waist. Both of us just stood there, swaying slightly and enjoying each other's company. It was bliss.

"Jack?" I murmured breaking the silence.

"Lily?" he mimicked, smirking down at me.

"I really like you too." I grinned.

*

July 2004 - Age 16

"I'm sorry, Lee, it's over..." I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"B-but Lily..." he stammered, taking hold of my hand. "I l-love you."

"Lee, please..." I begged.

I pulled my hand out of his grip and immediately left his room. I trotted down the stairs, running directly out of the front door and down the street to my own house. What the fuck is wrong with me?! That's the eighth boyfriend I've had in the space of 18 months. I thought me and Jack would have worked, what with us being good friends already, and I didn't want to ruin that friendship...I got that wrong. We hadn't spoken in a year. I immediately threw myself into relationship after relationship, whilst Jack stayed home and wallowed in his self pity. Tears came spilling down my cheeks as I reached home, and ran straight upstairs.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" I heard mum call after me.

"Nothing!" I sobbed loudly, slamming the door behind me.

Myself and Zack STILL shared a room. We were literally inseperable, and even though lots of people thought it was weird how close we were, we didn't care. If we wanna share a room, we'll share. I collapsed face first onto my bed and sobbed loudly into the covers. Everything's just fucking up for me lately, and I hate it. Every part of me constantly wishes I had ignored all the bad thoughts about what could have gone wrong between me and Jack and just gone through with it. I'm sure I would've been happier. The pain was too much. I lay there in the same position for about 10 minutes, just crying until there were no more tears left to cry. I cried until I was gasping for breath. I cried until I felt sick. I cried until I felt...the need. I pushed myself up and stood up. The full length mirror on my side of the room reflected back a person I didn't even recognise anymore. The reflection was skinny, gaunt in the face, pale as anything and had a million and one bruises down her legs from the many mosh pits she'd thrown herself into at concerts. Her lips looked as if they hadn't formed a proper smile in a very long time, and her eyes looked dead. What was once a happy teenager was now a miserable monster.

And all because she followed her head and not her heart.

I slipped off the jacket I'd pretty much lived in all summer, and revealed the scars. They littered the length of my whole right arm, some a lot deeper than others. The ones from last night and yesterday were still stinging slightly; the physical pain was starting to subside. The emotional pain was crawling back, and it was killing me. I walked over to my door and opened it. I stuck my head out, looking and listening for movement. Taking a deep breath, I ran across the hall to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me. I quietly locked the door (mum hated me locking the door - it meant she couldn't check on me) and began my rooting. Zack had obviously seen my scars; we tell each other eveything. He then took it upon himself to hide every single sharp object in the house so I couldn't do it anymore, but he forgets that I know him better than anyone. I knew where it was all hidden. This time, everything was hidden inside his old guitar - I'd found it all last night and hid it in the bathroom myself. I slid the razor blade out of my make up bag, looking at it for a minute as it glistened slightly in the light of the sunset pouring through the window. I wanted to smile, but I didn't even have the energy to do that anymore.

"Here goes nothing..." I murmured, dragging the blade across my arm again.