Wonderland

❅H49❅ Slipped Away

Chapter Forty-Nine

Heather's POV

Slipped Away

I started crying once Brayden left. I felt as if my entire heart had been ripped from my chest. I wasn't crying over the fact that Brayden loved me; I was crying over the fact that I was going to hurt him. I wasn't supposed to tell him I loved him. That was never a part of the plan, but just being near him... I couldn't help it.

Inside of my backpack, there contained four letters, a wallet, and a pocketknife. One letter was for LifeCenter Northwest, an organ donor organization. On my way to the bus stop, I stopped by the post office inside the communications building to send it. The other three letters in my bag were for my dad, Brayden, and Isabelle.

It's funny how I only ever ended up completing around half of what I had on my To Do list. I took a bus down to the nearest car rental near campus. It was there that I received another text from my dad:

I'm at your dorm. Where are you?

I lied and messaged him back, saying that I was in class and wouldn't be back at my dorm until six. Between now and then, I could put some distance between my dad and I, so that even if he did suspect something going on, he would be too late to act upon it. Now that I think about it, going to Leavenworth would've been a bad idea. For one, it's a popular location in Washington, and two, I did tell Brayden once that I wanted to visit Germany sometime after I graduated. He'd immediately think I went there if he noticed my disappearance, because that'd be the closest version of Germany I could get.

As I drove down the never-ending highway, I had trouble seeing where I was going because my eyes were soaked in tears. I struggled to keep them open because they were so swollen from all the crying. I honestly don't think I ever stopped crying. And besides, it was just I here. No one can judge. I just let everything out.

I don't know how much time passed before I ended up in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but trees. I was no longer driving on paved roadways; I was driving on dirt and pebbles. I hastily wiped at my eyes with the back sleeve of my sweater and pulled the car up into a dirt pathway that led up to an abandoned house. I parked it there without turning off the engine. The house looked liked something from a horror movie. There were vines growing around it, and the windows were shattered. The roof was starting to cave in, too.

Where I was right now, there was frost outside covering the shattered windows of the house and the ground. I put the heater on full blast when I started shivering. I secretly started to wonder whether or not it'd be a good idea to stay here for a while, at least until I stopped crying. This would most definitely be a place where serial killers would hide.

I brushed aside my foolish thoughts and grabbed my backpack from the seat beside me. I unzipped it with shaking hands and pulled out my pocketknife. I held it under my eyes and sniffled. I always thought that cutting would be the answer to all of my problems, but now I can see that it's not. It doesn't do anything other than make me feel shittier about myself. Even though it does bring relief for a few hours, depending on how deep the cut is, the harming doesn't change anything about the situation I'm in.

I chewed on my inner cheek as I brushed the blade lightly against the gauze around my arm. In response to that, my heart started beating erratically under my chest, fear pumping throughout my entire body. It knew what I was about to do, and it was terrified.

My hands were shaking uncontrollably now. I had a difficult time unwrapping the gauze around my arm, but once it was off, that was when I did it. No remorse, no regret, nothing. I was stoic. Determined.

I plunged the tip of the blade into the wounds I made yesterday. I bit back a scream. The pain was unbearable, but I kept cutting. Self-hatred was my fuel. I'm a pathetic failure, a mistake that wasn't even supposed to exist. I have no family, and I have no future. I can never look past my flaws... I'm a failure.

I am already broken; scraped raw from all the emotional pain I've endured in my lifetime. I can't take it anymore.

I burst into tears again when I saw the result of my actions. My entire arm was covered in blood. The blood was spurting madly from some of my wounds, and flowing out from some of my other ones. My jeans and sweater were entirely soaked. My arm was a mutilated blob. It didn't even look like an arm anymore.

I stared out the window, in an attempt to placate myself, but it wasn't working. The pain was insufferable. I didn't even know if I was feeling emotional pain or physical pain anymore; they all felt the same to me--only one wasn't permanent.

I don't know how long I had been sitting there until everything around me suddenly ceased to exist. I can't exactly describe the feeling, but I felt as if I were floating. I felt like another entity. Time seemed to stop, and I was drowning in more sorrow than my body could handle.

Gradually, a feeling of weakness and drowsiness swept over me.

The car felt stuffy from the heat blowing out of the vents, but I was too tired to turn it off. I let it keep blowing, until my eyelids became heavy and my body screamed for sleep. I succumbed to the warm darkness pooling my vision. It welcomed me with open arms, and a promise for a happier life somewhere else. I felt myself slipping away, and I wondered if this was the end of me, if this was how I was going to go.

I wonder if my dad will notice. He probably won't. He'll leave without wondering why I'm not showing up, just like what he always does. Brayden will get back together with Berkeley because Berkeley has a way of winning people over, and Isabelle will find a new roommate because that's just how life goes: it goes on without giving a shit for others. Before long, I'll be nothing more than a memory: a girl who only used to exist.

Some things are out of our control. Take falling in love, for example. I'm not talking about the kind of love you can hold for a person; I'm talking about the kind of love you can hold for some thing. Like a teddy bear you've had since you were eight, or the color blue.

Me? I fell in love with the darkness, with oblivion, with Mother Nature, with silence, with the idea of being in love--

But I never meant to fall in love with Death.