Death Sounds Like A Melody (Merome)

Chapter 1 - A New Chance

THIS IS A WARNING. THIS BOOK IS GOING TO CONTAIN SELF HARMING, SUCIDE, ANOREXIA, ANXIETY AND PRACTICALLY EVERY OTHER MENTAL DISORDER THERE IS OUT THERE. If you feel triggered by this stuff in any way, please leave for your own sake.

Anyway, I hope you like this! If you do, make sure you 'like' and comment.

Enjoy!

Also, this book is going to be mostly in Mitch's POV.

Mitch's POV

The blade runs over my scared wrists, creating crimson coloured lines on my pale flesh. I bite my lip as tears run down my face. Why aren't I good enough? I'm never good enough for anyone or anything. The cold dark blood runs down my arm and into the bathroom sink, staining it with my impurity. I smile a little at the look of my blood against the bleached vanity.

I grab the blade between my thumb and pointer finger and press down hard on my left wrist. It creates a very deep cut. I wince a little as I turn on the tap and wash the blood away from the six cuts, but I don't cry. I'm already use to the pain from the hundreds of scares littering my anorexic figure. From my thighs. to my hips, to my wrists. 

I look in the mirror to see my hair mattered and all over the place, tears staining my scrawny face and eyes glassy.  "Worthless, nerd, ugly piece of trash." I whisper to myself. I sigh and open up the medicine cabinet and pull out the bandages. Carefully, I wrap up my cuts that have stopped bleeding slightly.

Once I've done that, I pull down the sleeve of my grey shirt. I grab the razor and stash it in a small black box and put it in my pant pocket. I always have my baby with me in case of emergencies. It's my best and only friend.

Cutting is like an escape for me. The pain flows away with the blood. But that feeling doesn't last very long, so I do it again and again. It's the only think I can hold onto. Everything I had ever known was all a lie, a trick, causing me to never trust anyone again. But my blade doesn't lie. It cuts through me because I deserve it. It's the only thing I can hold onto.

I walk into my bedroom which is pretty boring. Just a bed, cupboard, desk overflowing with paper, and boxes. I have moved in a two story house with my father from Canada. My mother died when I was young from cancer.  Dad is constantly away on business trips because his work is very demanding, so I'm practically alone all the time.

Not complaining though, I like being alone. It means that I don't have to trust or talk to anyone. Trust left me a long time ago and I'm anti social from the incident that happened at school quite some time ago. Just thinking about it makes me start to shake.

God I hate my life. I just want to die. 

I sit down in the swivel chair by my desk, open my laptop, and open my latest file, an orchestra arrangement. We have moved because I've been accepted into this gifted and talented school for my musical talent until I graduate, which is in a year. I have a natural gift for playing instruments, especially the piano. The piano is the only other thing in my life that I love and trust. My fingers glide across the keys with ease. I can just listen to a song and then play it on the piano. (A/N I can do this. It's awesome!) I can express my emotions through music. The feeling is almost as good as cutting. Almost.

I write my own music when I feel like it. Sometimes I add lyrics because I can sing as well. I've written some pretty deep shit. A few months ago, I sent away one of my works to this school, wanting to escape the horror I arrived to everyday. But then again, I'm most likely going to get bullied at this school too because I'm that emo that no one gives a shit about.  Yeah, I've been that for a while now.

I do some work on  my latest score and then shut the laptop. I'm tried, so I flop into my bed and wrap myself up in the sheet, slowly falling asleep.

-~*~-

The next morning, I have a panic attack after I wake. Today is the first day going to this new school. I'm not good with new things or people. I'll probably have a melt down in the middle of class, and that will lead to further bullying. Oh god, the bullying. What if the music teacher wants me to play one of my pieces? I hate being the centre of attention. Yep, Defiantly have social anxiety.

Quickly, I run downstairs to the pitch black piano that is sitting against the plain white wall. I sit down and open the lid and rest my shaking fingers on the keys and right foot on the dampening pedal. I close my eyes and let my fingers press down on the keys as they wish. My foot comes on and off the dampening pedal as it wishes.

I focus my attention on the melody coming from the piano, Letting it consume my every thought. My body starts to relax and my fingers push down on the keys smoothly. Like I said, it calms me down. It's much better then cutting myself in terms of the action. But It doesn't give me the satisfaction like harming myself does.

The song finishes, making me sigh in content. I feel much better now. I get up and start to get ready quickly, not bothering to eat as usual. I put on a grey long sleeve shirt and jacket along with skinny jeans. Our house isn't far from the school, so I'll just walk. I grab my backpack and lock the door as I walk out.  While walking, my mind takes a turn for the worst. I am worthless. I'm not worth the pain. I'm not worth the effort. I shake my head and try to think positive.

I make it to the front of the school and look at it. It actually looks pretty descent. It's clean, modern and large, the exact opposite of me. (A/N He is small guys. Not like really small but not average height either.) Students all converge with their friends since I'm here early. I walk into the front door, getting looks from people and them whispering to their friends. Some start giggling at me, making me blush a little. I knew this was going to happen! I try ignore them though and make my way to the administration office.

I walk up to the women sitting behind then desk. She looks up, her blue eyes beaming, and smiles. "How can I help you?" She asks politely. I swallow the lump in my throat. "U-uh. I'm the new kid?" I say but it ends up more of a question. I mentally scold myself. God your such a screw up Mitch! She giggles a little and then grabs something from a pile of paper work and hands it to me.

"That's your schedule Mr Hughes and the key to your locker. There are 3 periods, then lunch, then 2 more after that. Each go for an hour and lunch goes for 45 minutes. I hope you find this school better then your last." She says. I nod my head and mumble a thank you before walking out of the room.

Students roam the hall, making me shake a little. I look at the key to see the number of my locker. I look at the lockers and then I find mine, opening mine and storing my stuff inside the compartment. I keep the things I need for first period though. I close the door,  lock it, and make my way to first period. And that period just happens to be Music.