Faults, Scars, and Guitar Strings

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"You only ate half," I heard my mom behind me.

"I ate a big lunch," I lied.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes mother," I said annoyed before leaving the room.

The guilt was starting to overcome me. I lied to my mom every day, and it was getting easier and easier... until today. That stupid music was getting to my head and changing me. I never had a problem with it before today. Lolita owes me big time for this. She's ruining my plans. I went into my room slamming the door behind me. Save Me had just started playing and I went back to the computer, but it was no use. I slammed the laptop shut and tossed it to the ground, landing safely on a pile of clothes. I walked back into the bathroom and laid on the floor like before. I put the towel on my lap and took the razor out of my pocket. I lowered the razor to my wrist and started cutting. I won't let myself fail this time. I heard the music in the background:

Does someone save me
or do I save myself?

Over and over
and over again.

Save me, save me,
save me from my mind.

Save me...

I ignored the music this time, only making it more painful as I continued cutting. I used her music to force myself to cut this time. It motivated me. I needed to prove it wrong. I leaned back against the wall and watched the blood spill onto the towel. It's mesmerizing. I couldn't stop the tears from forming. I picked up the razor again, but just as I did the bathroom door opened. The one and only time I forgot to lock the door and I saw my mom standing there staring at my wrist. Now it's just another reason to be angry at myself. I messed up again, proving once again I'm the disappointment child. Based on the look in her eyes I didn't need any reassurance about that.

"Kayla!" my mom tried to yell.

It was nearly impossible to understand with her crying and all. I looked up at her; barely able to see through my tears. She ran down to me, grabbing my towel, and trying to stop the bleeding.

"Stop!" I yelled, "I deserve this!"

"Kayla no one deserves this! You don't need to hurt yourself. You are beautiful the way you are!" she said. "Why would you do something like this to yourself? Why?"

"Beautiful?" I said, "Tell that to all the notes in my bag! You don't expect me to believe I'm beautiful do you? That's what everybody says to ugly people to make them feel better about themselves. That doesn't make it true."

"What notes?" she said ignoring the rest of what I said.

I just looked at her, not being able to respond. She ran out to my room, pulling open my bag. I walked in there and she was grabbing all the notes reading them.

"What are these?" she asked.

"Aren't they thoughtful?" I said sarcastically, "They write me one every day you know? Sometimes two or three times. Do you want to hear what they say?" I took one of the notes from her and read it, "This one says I'm too ugly to have friends." I grabbed a few more and began reading those as well. "This one says that nobody comes near me because I stink too bad. Oh and look at this one. It says I need to stop wearing my hoodie because everybody knows what's under it. How sweet. Look at this amazing life I have."

"Honey, what is so wrong with your life?' she said.

"What's wrong?" I yelled, "What's wrong?! You're kidding right? I'm the fat, depressed, disappointment child! The one who never amounted to anything and never will. The one nobody notices or cares about! Can't you see?! Everybody knows that! It's right here in all these notes!"

"What do you mean no one cares, we care!"

"You care!" I yelled back, "What while you try and force me to eat in the morning or while dad's drinking in his study! Does that sound caring to you? Dad doesn't notice any of us! He wouldn't notice if we disappeared one day."

"Your father works hard for his success! Take that back!"

"Mom you don't need to hide it. We all know he's in there drinking like that alcoholic he is!" I yelled, "More drinking, better books right?"

"Kayla Dane, don't you dare say that about your father. There is nothing wrong with your life. Everybody has problems and everyone makes mistakes but that's what makes us unique," she said, softer. "I am sorry if we ever made you feel like we did not care, but we do. Obviously you do not see it, but we do."

"Tell it to someone who cares mom," I said. "Can you please leave, I need to sleep?"

I saw the disappointment in her eyes, this time it wasn't like always. I have never seen this look in her eyes before. She walked out, taking all the notes with her and I slammed the door as soon as she left. This time I remembered to lock the door. I went over to the stereo, turning Lolita's music up high and falling onto my bed. I held onto my pillow for dear life and cried myself to sleep. Why did my life have to be like this? It's never going to get better. I either have to live like this forever or finally end it for good. I choose to end it. As my crying subsided I rolled over in my bed so I had a perfect view of the poster of the guitar on my wall. Eventually I fell asleep.

*David*

I got back to my house at 10 o'clock at night after a long day in the studio. I turned on my cell phone again and saw over 10 messages from my parents. What the hell is going on over there? I dialed my parents' number and my mom answered immediately.

"David, thank God you answered the phone. I've been trying to reach you for hours. Your father's in his studio and I can't talk to him for another hour."

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked. "I've been in the studio all day."

"It's your sister..." she trailed off beginning to cry. "I don't know what to do. Oh my God, it's so bad David. I don't know how to handle this. She needs help. It's bad."

A lump formed in my throat and I had to take a few breaths before I responded, "What about Kayla? Did she do something? What happened? Is she okay?"

"Yes," mom replied, sobbing through the phone, "She's done something terrible. Can you come over tomorrow morning before she leaves for school? It's an emergency."

"Of course, but can I ask what she did?"

"It's better for you to hear for yourself. I can't talk about it. I can't talk about it without crying. She needs so much help. My baby."

"Mom, please? She's my sister."

"Okay," she started crying again. "Kayla's hurting herself. I found her in her bathroom earlier. We had a fight. It was so bad David. There was so much blood. She got so angry at me."

"Hurting herself?"

"It's exactly the way you're thinking. I found out today. We have to have an intervention tomorrow morning. We cannot let her do that to herself anymore. I don't want her dead."

"I'll be there," I told her, "Anything for Kayla."

"Thank you."

"It'll be okay mom," I told her before hanging up.

What has my sister gotten herself into now? I know I don't see her often, but it's only because I'm busy with my career. It doesn't mean I don't care about her; I love my sister more than anything. Apparently Kayla doesn't know that. Living in that house must be hard though; there are a lot of not so good memories in that house and it's partly because of me. What have I done? Is this my fault? After the bad times we went through Kayla began shutting herself off from the rest of us. I thought it was only because she was sad. I thought she would move on, but apparently she never moved on. It sounds like she doesn't plan on moving on at all.