Sight

Thirteen.

I didn't remember falling asleep amidst my tears last night. When I woke up, I noticed the pillow damp under my head, against my cheek, and my blanket clutched tightly in my fist, my knees were pulled upward, almost touching my chest, and my hair disheveled and carelessly sprawled across both my pillows.

I pulled myself up, my skin felt dry and lifeless, my lips chapped and tasting salty as I licked them, my throat was sore and I, seemed to, hardly have the ability to speak, not that I wanted to. I looked around my bed and saw the black box with the satin blue ribbon, the present Dad got me for my birthday. I wanted to open it, for something to bring a smile to my face, but I couldn't bring myself to. So I left the big black box and that shining ribbon on my bed and looked away.

I wanted to shoot myself in the head for reacting the way I did in front of my family, they'd have a million questions, millions of doubts running and tumbling out of their mouths, or worse, they wouldn't. Maybe they finally accepted that their daughter was a druggie and a low life.

I wish I could tell them the truth, but it would only assure the thoughts in their head.

When I dated Daniel and I told my parents I had met someone after Skye's death, it made them feel uneasy, thinking I was acting impulsively, but happy for me at the same time.

Then when he died- when I thought he died- I broke down again, but Ava brought me home and kept me from doing unthinkable things to myself.

She told me that I shouldn't have to handle so much, so she kept me from going to his funeral, and then she deleted his number from my phone. She wanted me to forget.

I couldn't Avery, I couldn't.

Daniel wasn't a very big part of my life, but he left a very large impact, and with Avery wanting me to forget that impact made me think that she was crazy, but in the end it helped me.

I accepted his death, I accepted Skye's death, and I made peace with myself. I went back to school and I forgot and never looked back to relive my torturous life with drugs, I was happy.

Now that happiness was being ripped away from me, forcefully. However hard I tried to cling onto it, life simply wanted me to be in the dark, and it was pulling me back down again.

As I stepped out of bed, my legs felt numb and my stomach was tight with anxiety, I could hardly move.

I walked over to my bedroom door, silently unlocked it and crept my way into the adjoining bathroom, quickly shutting the door behind me and locking it soundlessly.

I didn't want to face my family yet, but that time would come, in about thirty minutes.

I took my time with brushing my teeth and washing my face, then, to just get the job done, I pulled back the shower curtain from that hid the bathtub and climbed in for a hot shower which will hopefully wash away my sorrows, of course it didn't.

I hummed silently as I massaged my scalp with my shampoo and gently scrubbed my skin with the soft, exfoliating beaded soap, it made me feel a lot better.

Closing my eyes I continued to wash away the solutions which threatened to flow down from my scalp and seep into my eyes, burning them no matter how much water I splashed in.

Suddenly I felt the water get really hot, hot water felt amazing against the body, but at one point it started to burn you.

The shampoo seemed to have washed off, but my hair still felt sticky and disgusting, opening my eyes I knew why. There was thick blood pouring out of the shower head, I looked down at my body and streamlines of the sickening gore streaked my body, I felt like my skin was peeling and screaming with pain as the heat relentlessly came down on me.