Trying to dance through the rain

Chapter 8

Lacey came in later that day immediately rushing towards me and pulling me into a careful hug.

"Oh my god! I was so worried. Why didn't you tell me or mum about Grace and the others?" She asked.

"I didn't want to burden you two. You had Tiffany and Adam to worry about and mum had her career to worry about. I didn't want to be the one stopping you doing what you love and want to do. I had no idea what to do or who I could tell. I just felt so alone." I replied.

"Don't worry, I'm here now. And mum's here as well."

"Mums here?"

It was rare for mum to ever have time off work as the directors were always working to deadlines.

"When can I see her?" I asked.

What would mum think of me being like this?

How did I even get into this mess?

"When Dr Emily gives her permission to see you." Lacey replied to me.

My heart sank a bit when she said that, all I wanted to do was cry into mums arms instead of my pillow, Lacey sat on the edge of my bed.

"Lacey?"

Tears started streaming down my face.

"Yeah, babes?"

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, stroking my hair.

"I'm sorry. I've spoiled everything for everyone."

I was almost choking on my own tears.

Lacey rested her chin on my head.

"you haven't trust me." She consoled.

"I promised you...I promised" I whispered.

"Ok baby, it's ok. My time with you is up but I'll come back again tomorrow."

And with that she left me but I knew what I was gonna do about the pain.

It was too much to take anymore, I wanted to show my pain and the pain I'd caused others.

In the corner of the room was a medic cart there had to be something in there, anything.

Luckily there was a wheelchair by my bed, I could use that to support myself.

I went through the motions and gripped tightly on to the handles of the wheelchair and slowly proceeded to the edge of the room.

I made it and started rifling through the draws eventually finding what I needed and pulled the clean, sharp and pristine knife out.

You'd think that people would be smarter to not leave sharp items around a heavily depressed person, especially a 14 year old.

I rested my shoulder against the wall and flipped my arm over to reveal my wrist.

I cut in deeper and deeper in a zig zag the whole way up the inside of my arm, then doing the same thing to my other arm.

Next both of my thighs.

And then to top it all off I engraved each of the first initials of all the people who had hurt me into the outer side of my left arm: Grace, Josie, George, Harry, Simone, Hannah, Molly.

I gripped the knife harshly, happy, but not fulfilled with my art work and made my way with the knife back to my bed feeling the drops of blood rolling down my body.

And for the first time in months I felt completely satisfied that I looked exactly how I felt.

Half way back my vision started becoming grainy at the edges, something, someone came  into my room just as my body decided it couldn't take any more.