Envy

CHAPTER 2: Alysa (June)

                                           Kim's music makes the wall that separates our rooms throb to the beat. I sway back and forth, trying to focus on my task at hand. The razor is slick and smooth between my thumb and index finger. I twirl it in my fingers, carful not to let the blade’s teeth bite me. I wish I could say I have butterflies in my stomach, but I can't. It's and if I have snakes, coiling and uncoiling around my guts, particularly my lungs; trying to suffocate me. 

My face still throbs with every pulse of my heart from Kim’s blows, not a hour earlier. She snuck into my room after she got her ass chewed out my Dad. I don’t mind though. I welcome the pain, want it almost. 

Almost.... Not quite.

I could almost smell the alcohol on her breath as she screamed and cursed at me, telling me she wished I was never born. Oh trust me sister, you aren’t the only one. I could still see the little white particles under her nose. My mouth opened, about ready to sputter and apologize for something I never did, but her knuckles beat me too it. Her right hook was better than it looked. I tasted the metallic tang of blood before I even hit the ground. 

“You, you... bitch!” she’d shriek. “You’ve done nothing but ruin all of our lives!” I do nothing, but crouch in a ball by my bed, waiting for the next blow. And all too soon, it comes. Her right foot flies, and I saw the act before she actually tried to kick me, but my dodge wasn’t fast enough. I knew my mistake before I made it. I leaned to far to the left, giving her access to the left side of my face. The toes of her shoes catch me in the jaw, and pain explodes on impact, sending waves of red hot agony strait to my brain.

There’s a bruise there for sure. 

I tilt my head up, trying to listen to the lyrics of the music. I know this song. It's My Chemical Romance, one of the only bands Kim and I agree on. I let the words fill me...

Mama, we all go to hell.

Mama, we all go to hell.

I'm writing this letter, and wishing you well.

Mama, we all go to hell.

Mama, we're all gonna die.

Mama we're all gonna die.

Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry.

Mama, we're all gonna die.

That couldn’t be more true.

And when we go, don't blame us, yeah!

We let the fire just bathe us, yeah! 

You made us all so famous!

We'll never let go!

And when you go, don't return to me, my love.

Mama, we're all full of lies.

Mama, we're meant for the flies.

And right now, they're building a coffin your size...

Mama, we're all full of lies. 

I sigh, letting my breath calm me, and slide the razor across the soft, meaty flesh of my left wrist. 

My pain slowly drips from my body, dark and red.

“Mama, we all go to hell.”