Magcon: Can you feel my heart? // cash

Chapter 27

•Cuts•

|unedited|

/I want to say trigger warning but not that much/

Lyrics:

I want the markings made on my skin, to mean something to me again, hope you haven't left me.

Nash's pov:

I looke down at my scared up limb. I sigh, and grasp the blade in my hand tighter. It's smooth cool surface rubs against the tips of my fingers. I raise the blade to my arm, on a space that wasn't marked up, and took a breath. I always admired the way my pale skin reflected against the sliver.

Roughly, I pushed down on the skin and ripped it. I feel the sting of the blade impaling me. Small drops of blood come out, but that's not enough for me. I push down harder and slide it to the right slowly. If the pain was time I'd slow it down for this moment. I deserve this. For so many reasons, I deserve to bleed for the wrong I've done.

A little stream of red goes down to the sink counter. It's such a beautiful colour.

I raise the blade and go up a little higher. Another slit and stream of blood. Only two for now. They're really deep and they sting in a good way. They're the punishments that no one decided to give me. I know I need to stop, but the blade keeps finding its way to me. It was the only thing that was there for me. The only one who helped me. Some may look at me and say "What is wrong with you? You're stupid for doing that." At least that's all I've ever heard.

Over the past few years I've watched the cuts slowly make its way up my arm. Every tear and horrible memory embedded in my arm. I don't mean to be depressed, it just happens.

A silent knock echoes in the empty bathroom i'm in.

"Nash time for school," my mother weakly tells me.

I could tell she was crying because her voice. She acts so strong for me and Hayes, but I know she has gone through depression. I guess that's why I'm like this. My father helped her back then, but now I don't know anymore. I give a weak groan as a response and she leaves. I grab the paper towels on the counter and wipe the wet blood off. The blood on the counter made its way down into the sink. I finish cleaning everything and pull down my wrists. My sleeves rub against my cuts and a sharp pain shoots up my arm.

The door opens to hayes with a toothbrush in his hand. He sees the small dried blood that remained on the sink and rolls his eyes.

"toothpaste?" He asks pointing to my mint toothpaste bottle.

"Sure," I respond grabbing my bottle and handing it to him.

He hums a thank you and leaves my bathroom. I turn off the lights and exit. I grab my keys from my bedside table and leave my room. I run down the stairs to see my dad cooking breakfast, but I don't bother getting any. He sees me walk out, but doesn't say anything either.

I check my phone to see the time is 7:20 am. I was 40 minutes early, but I didn't care. I had time to go to the park.

When I get there there is a notice saying "PARK IS DUE TO CLOSE EARLIER THAN EXPECTED. NEW DATE IN JUNE"

One three month left with my childhood I guess. I pay no attention to the sign anymore and walk to the swing seat. I wrap my hands around the cold chain that held me up and thrust my legs back. I start the motion needed to swing. A small breeze is all I can really feel now. I close my eyes and left the air engulf me. This makes me feel as if I'm no longer here. As if I have no more worries.

"Hey," a familiar voice says.

I open my eyes and look next to find cameron sitting on the swing next to me and looking at his shoes.

"Thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore," I say.

He shrugs and looks at me like he's about to cry.

"I think my dad is dead," he said.

"What?" I said blankly.

"one of his friends said my dad hadn't been calling him, but he did on a regular basis. He's going down to check it out, but I'm scared he might be dead. Regardless of what he did I still love him, and he is a part of me I refuse to let go of."

I look at him in silence. A tear trickled down his left check and rolled down his neck. He had his hands clasped together tightly and shaking a bit. I just sat there, not really knowing what to say. We make eye contact and there is a glimmer of something there. Another tear escapes his eye and he looks back down.

"I'm sorry," I said.

He nods, "Everyone is."

I return to my swinging letting it soak in. I don't know how to explain what I feel right now. A sort of sad sinking feeling for cameron and myself.

"Can we walk to school together?" He asks.

I look at the time on my phone and realize its almost time to go. I shrug and continue swinging. He sighs, gets up, and slowly starts walking away into the direction of school. If only I cared about school. If only I was good at something other than hurting people.

I lift my self from the swing seat and walk in the direction cameron just went. I don't try to catch up to him, but keep a certain distance. I know he needs a friend, a shoulder to cry on, but I need one too. Maybe we can cry together, but that'll get us nowhere. I've done it a million times and nothing cures the pain. Only causing more pain to block out the old pain. I can hear the chatter of high school kids fill my ears as I approach the door.

I walk into school and the cool air hits me. I walk into the sea of kids. All with their own lives and problems. All going through something. I just realized I think about life too much.

"Nash," a teacher calls to me.

I walk over to them, "Yes?"

"I'm worried about you, you haven't been completing all of your work and you're not your usual self lately," they say putting a hand on my shoulder.

"How do I usually act miss?" I ask.

"Do I need to inform your mother that you're having a hard time again?" She asks worried.

"I'm fine," I lie and walk away.

I walk to my locker and open it to get my first periods books. I make my way to class and sit down.

-

School is over and I'm walking home by myself. I haven't seen cameron all day, but I don't really care. I open my door to hear complete silence. It's not that normal, but I guess everyone is out.

I go up to my room and lie down on my bed. Another urge rushes through me. The urge to feel pain is coursing up and down my arms. I roll out of bed and go to my bathroom to find my blade in the same place. I pick it up gently and look at the rust starting to form on the edge. I place the sharp side on my skin and slide. Its a pleasurable sting.

Finally, these markings on my skin mean something to me again.

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Hey :) sorry it took me so long again. Sad chapter, but had to be made :( sorry it's so short too

Hope everyone is having a gr8 summer. Mine is kind of boring, but not at the same time. Comment what you think or want to happen bc I'm kind of stumped atm. I'll take suggestions.

word count:~ 1257

byes~