Comfortably Numb ↠ An Original Story

4- Welcome Home, Sorta

The days in the hospital and when I was released was like a series of pictures I was looking at. First, Alexandria Ella Parker leaving the hospital with her new guardian- her 24 year old halfbrother (my dad cheated when my mom and him were still just dating), Luke. Then Alex coming into his house, being greeted with a tight hug by his wife, Alice.

His house was located a block away from my old house, but a block closer to Peyton. I got my own room in Luke's house and for hours I just sat in there crying softly, being careful not to let the strangled cries out. Because then Luke would come, and he would tell Alice and I would be the main event of a pity party. Then somehow I managed to stop crying and I put up posters of my favorite bands all over my room; All Time Low, Pierce the Veil, Greenday, Fall Out Boy, Black Veil Brides, etc. etc. Luke got them from my old house when he went to get all my possessions.

Once I finished with showering my room in posters I started to put my other things away like clothes, school things, books, and so on. And then I found my old notebook, where I would write pens whenever I felt depressed. Which was all the time. The notebook had a bunch of pages filled with poems. I opened to a random page and found one I wrote in 8th grade, when I felt I couldn't take it anymore and tried to kill myself. But after I attempted I found how much I loved writing poetry (the notebook had a bunch of doodles I drew when I was bored before I started writing).

I started reading the poem to myself.

She paints a pretty picture,

But this picture has a twist.

You see, her paintbrush is a razor

And her canvas is her wrist.

She paints her pretty picture

In a color that's blood red.

While using her sharp paintbrush

She finally ends up dead.

Her pretty pictures fading

Quite slowly on her arm.

The blood is not racing through her,

She can no loner do harm.

She painted her pretty picture,

But her picture had a twist.

You see, her mind was her razor,

And her heart was her wrist.

Tears brimmed my eyes as I remembered the time when I wrote that. It was the 8th grade...

**Flashback**

I walked down the halls at school, keeping my head down. I heard the snide comments and jeering, "FREAK!" "Ew it's Alex." "Mute weirdo!" etc. etc. But I'll be gone tonight, and they'll have to find someone new the taunt. I won't show up to school the next day, and people will assume I'm sick or slept in to late. But I didn't sleep in late, I would be asleep forever.

I walked home since the bus was just a place to get beat up and taunted even more than at school and my dad won't pick me up (no duh). When I walked in the house I found my dad was out, probably at the bar. Perfect. I ran into the bathroom and locked to door behind me and stared at the ugly, choppy layered and naughty haired, fat girl in the mirror. I reached for the pills inside of the cabinet and stared at the mirror teary eyed and about to let out wails of tears. A lump formed in my throat as the tears started rolling down my cheeks. Slowly, I emptied a handful of pills into my hands, examining them. Slowly I raised them to my mouth and whispered a few phrases to myself, "She paints a pretty picture. But this picture has a twist. You see, her paintbrush is a razor and her canvas is her wrist." My eyes widened as I heard myself form those words and I ran to my room and grabbed my doodle notebook, writing down words as fast as ideas came to my brain, and I completely forgot about what I was going to do.

**Flashback over**

"Alex? Alexandria? Earth to Alex!" Luke snapped me out of my daydream and I looked over at my doorway, where he was standing. "Dinners ready Lex." He said sweetly while smiling. I remembered those few times when I saw him and he would always call me 'Lex'. It was his nickname for me, and he made sure no one ever used it because he always stated, "People steal my ideas all the time but this ones mine." I grinned a bit at the memory and nodded, following Luke out of my room.

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