WE GOT TO THIS

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

There was a point in my life when living lost all of its meaning to me. I was eighteen when it first happened, those days when my heart ached, ached so badly, for Jim had left me. I was sited on my bed, holding my knees to my chin, trying so hard to understand why he would really do it, why! Why would he just give up on what we had! It kept me restless; it kept me awake most of the nights.

Sited there in my depression, I saw it, a razorblade on my dresser, I just got the idea, it just took me up like a possession. I got off my bed and went on to pick it, then sat back on the bed and stared at it for some time. I was wearing pajamas and I pulled them off, then sat on the floor with just a shirt and my knickers on. I looked at my thigh and it just pushed me, I was so scared but I went on to do it. I made a cut on my thigh, feeling the pain as I split my skin, I curved my lips in to stop myself from screaming, tears started to pour from my eyes. I stared at myself bleed, but strangely, I felt good! So, I did it again, cut myself again and the third time, then I threw the razor away at once.

I didn't stop the bleeding for some time, I just watched my own blood pour out and I started to breathe calmly, slowly, slowly, I gained control of myself again. I went to the bathroom, washed off the blood, I found some bandages and I covered over the wound. I didn't tell anyone about it. That was just the first time I did it, I cut my feet, I cut my tummy, I cut hand. Every time I would get taken over by the thoughts of Jim, I would find a razor and just watch myself bleed, till I found myself a new hobby.

Almost everyone I slept with asked me the same question, "Where did you get these scars?" Of course I did not answer any of them, it reached a time when I was frustrated by it, so I just didn't get naked anymore during sex, I just felt like avoiding the question was easier than dodging to answer. I did self-harm for almost two years, I stopped doing it at twenty, at least I thought I had. Sometimes while sited at the café I would wonder how my life became a pond of bad habits! But, midst all that, I just kept a smile on, to everyone; I never wanted anyone to even imagine I was all broken to pieces.

We got together with Ethan again. He would find me at the café, join my table and we conversed for so long, we would laugh out loud, we enjoyed our times together, he was just the best company. To my surprise, I had taken two weeks without fucking anyone because of Ethan, I didn't want to admit it but, he was building a better person out of me!

One day, he was walking me home; it was in the evening at around 8pm. He held my hand in his as we conversed. He then lifted my arm and made it rest on his like we were walking down the aisle, that is when he saw them, my scars on the hand. I think he didn't give it attention by the first glance, but then he didn't ignore it, he stopped and held my hand straight and looked at them in this kin way.

"These scars" he said. I was quick to pull my jacket up, at first I was walking with it suspended down, hanging from my elbows, letting my shoulders to the air.

"How did you get those scars?" he asked

"Nothing" I said "nothing much, something just scratched me. I think I will get myself home now. Thanks Ethan" I said panicking, and I walked away without letting him say anything else. I walked down the street with such a pace, I didn't dare look behind, my heart was racing, pounding so hard. I got home, and locked the door behind me, sat right there and leaned on it. I was feeling so bad, I hated the way my past would always just show up to haunt me every time.

Sited there trying to catch my breath, someone knocked on my door, again and again, I didn't to answer it, I didn't want to see anyone, I simply covered my ears and rested my forehead on my knees.

"Heather open up, it's me" the person knocking said, it was Ethan's voice. He kept on calling and calling on to me tirelessly until I just opened for him.

"Ethan..."I said but he didn't let me say anything else

"I want to show you something before you say anything" he said "may I come in?" he asked.

I moved out of the doorway and signaled him to walk in. He entered and sighed, and then he pulled his shirt off. Oh my God! To my surprise, he had burns all over his left arm, from his elbow to his shoulder, a lot of burns, scars! I walked close to him, lifted my hand in freight and felt them! They too many of them, they must have been painful!

"How did you get these?" I asked

"I burnt myself" he said "many, many times" he continued.

We sat on the bed and he told me how it all began for him. His was a family story, his Father had just died and he didn't really have anyone to fill the gap, he separated himself from the rest of his family, didn't allow any of them in, kept his feelings bottled yet his grief was too much for him to handle. He was about sixteen. He said one day he lit a candle, looked at it glow and then it took him up; he picked a nail, warmed it in the flames and just burned his skin. It became a habit for him and he just started to do it whenever he got emotional, whenever anything annoyed him, but he said Isabella helped him get over it. It was then that I realized I had never seen him in anything but a long sleeved shirt.

"Those scars on your hand" he said "they just looked so familiar, nothing could have scratched you that way." He continued. I looked at him knowing he was right, what I couldn't believe was that there was someone else in the species as me and he was just right there, in front of me. I decided to open up to him.

"I have never explained this to anyone, ever" I said.

I pulled off my skirt, my jacket and my top, stood there in front of him in just my bra and my knickers. I showed him all of my scars, on my thighs, on my tummy, on my hands, and I let him inspect all of them with his hands as I explained to him how I got each of them. We sat on the bed and stared at each other, eye to eye, wondering how it happened that we had so many mutual things.

He lifted his hand and passed it in my face, then passed his fingers on every scar on my body and rested his palm on my laps. It became unavoidable, I leaned forward and kissed him, he kissed me back and it just became deep, our tongues into each others' mouth. He dropped me to my back, got on top of me and looked down in my eyes, there was this excitement I was feeling inside that tears just started rolling down my eyes, for so long I had wished I would open up to someone like I just did and I just felt so good then.

He simply rolled over and let me sleep in his chest, held me so tight and it felt so warm and cozy, we didn't say a thing to each other but just lived the moment, I calmly fell asleep as he did, the most peaceful night I had ever had. I woke in the morning and he was asleep, I was still in his chest and he didn't even let me go. "Wow, I want to be here forever" I thought.