A story about love

4.

!TW - Anxiety, Self harm, Panic Attack, Violence, Alcohol, Abuse!

Charlies pov-
In the end, I decide to go home instead. There are to many thoughts telling me not to go to Nick's. Nick probably isn't even home, and if he is, he probably doesn't want me to disturb him. Maybe I'm just in the way and a burden for everyone? That might be true after all?

With a trembling body of anxiety, I stand at the door of my own house. It is three o'clock in the afternoon and the dark clouds create a gloomy feeling over the town.

I take a deep breath before i, with haste, opening the front-door to my home... house. Inside, it's unusually quiet - but I still get a sense of menace sweeping around me. I quietly place my backpack on the floor in the hall, before taking off my shoes. Then I start to take my steps towards the stairs to get up to my room, but before I can do that Im interrupted by a voice.
"Come here!" Says the voice. A voice that is familiar and that I would rather avoid right now, but at the same time I know what will happen if I don't obey. With anxious steps I walk towards the kitchen, where the voice came from.

I almost get a little dizzy from the strong smell of whiskey that hangs in the air. In front of me stands my mom, mother, with an empty whiskey glass in her hand.
"Where have you been?" She asks with an aggressive and angry tone in her voice. I see all the disappointment in her eyes, and it makes me really feel like a failure.
"I've been at school" I answer weakly with a trembling voice. It was true though, I'm not lying to her, for once. And since I'm telling the truth, maybe the consequences won't be that bad, right?
"Come on Charles, I know you've been to Nick's. You know how I feel about that!" She screams. The voice echoes in the house and I feel tears starting to form behind my eyes. Tears of stress, tears of worry, tears of regret. Tears of helplessness.
"Omg, please, you're 16 years old. Crying is something only babies do" Mom says to me in a disparaging tone. She takes a few steps closer to me. But before I can say anything more, or even think, I feel a hard slap against my cheek. The burning pain quickly spreads over the entire cheek.
"You are incredible, so childish. Go up to your room, I don't want to see your disgusting face anymore" mom whispers in my ear and in the meantime I hold all my emotions inside. I quickly turn around, leave the kitchen and run up the stairs. When I reach my room, I slam the door behind me before jumping into bed crying.

—

Burden

Selfish

Ugly

Failure

Childish

The words keep going through my head all the time. Maybe she's right? Am I doing anyone any good?

I'm lying in my bed, embraced by my duvet, when all the thoughts and feelings suddenly become too much. My chest starts to tighten and the air in the room feels gone, non-existent. My whole body starts shaking and I don't know what to do. I quickly jump out of bed, find a pair of scissors from my desk drawer, before sitting down on the floor. I have the bed as a back support when I put the scissors against my arm, cutting some more wounds beside my already fresh once form yesterday. It's nice, it's a controlling feeling to see the blood drip onto the floor. I feel alive, more alive now than ever before. It feels so good for the soul to do physical harm.