Her life was far from perfect.
With an absent father, an alcoholic mother, and two younger siblings to take care of, Aurora never believed in an exemplary life for herself and therefore for others.
Everyone looked at her from their rose-colored gl...
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I had issues, no doubt. Issues like mine weren't resolvable with anything, not even by a blade drawing across my skin. Not even that could pull me back above the surface of the sea I'd been drowning in for years.
I was a lost cause.
That made itself more evident when I got home from school and had a breakdown with one simple look in the mirror. I just... cracked. I broke down and spiraled, rushing into my room before reaching into my bedside table and using the same pathetic coping mechanism to quiet my mind.
With guilt of relapsing on my cutting, I drive to the park right after dinner. I told Jack I'd be back, leaving him with Mia while I found somewhere to get air. Air that my body lacked and wasn't able to get within these four walls I called hell.
I didn't bother telling my mom where I was going as she gave me an absent stare as I passed her in the living room. There was no point, I felt the drunk radiating off of her. That and the sight of a bottle of tequila she'd just bought that evening coming home from work was empty.
Hurt burst through my veins at the sight. We hated each other, only seeming to keep it together for outside eyes, but both had the same issues. The hatred we had for breathing, of being alive, of all the responsibility knocking on our doors.
She was just as much of a lost cause as I was.
It was eight thirty by the time I fled my house and made it to the quiet park. There were a few people, mostly with their pets or with their children at the playground. I chose to walk a safe distance from them all, following the trail around the park for a walk.
My mind searches for something to think about because the quiet after cutting can only be comfortable for so long. Eventually, it gets too quiet and my skin itches for something, anything to not focus on what I'd just done.
Sometimes that quiet turns into self-confrontation, tapping your shoulder, whispering in your ear, holding you accountable, and making you regret everything. I hated thinking about it. About how much of a coward I was.
I'm close to letting myself just cry in the middle of the park when someone taps my shoulder. I spin around, caught off guard.
"Woah! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that." Of course, just my luck to find Oliver here. I never enjoyed his company but right now it was amped up. I was not in the mood to deal with him or his aggravating conversations.
But something in his eyes twinkled in the park lamps. Something showed me that he too was not in the best mood. You could see the weight pressing on his shoulders. I knew what it looked like. I saw it on my shoulders in the mirror every morning.
My approach is gentler than usual, saying, "It's fine. You just caught me off guard." Oliver returns a tight-lipped smile. Definitely not in the best mood.
