Him.

(1) The First Time:

The first time I tried it, was way before the alcohol, the booze, it was before the drugs, it was before him. Mum and Dad were at it again, fighting. I don't even remember what is was about, (well, when do I ever remember? I stopped remembering when I realized that... that there no point remembering, there was no point even trying) was it Dad? Was he cheating again? Or was it Mum? Was she 'working too much and not caring about her own family' as Dad put it. I don't know, I don't care. I had just come back from school, Danny Samuels and his friends were making fun of me again. It was the usual insults: 'whale, Blubber, Fatty...' but, that wasn't it. That wasn't what made me do it. To be honest I don't even know why I did it. I just wanted to feel it, I wanted to feel the pain, the blood, the wound, I wanted to know whether Mum and Dad would care, I wanted to know what life would feel without me in it. Was I scared? Hell yeah! I was petrified. Instead of taking the usual route home, (the shorter route) I used another one (the longer route), I remember walking past a small 24 hour supermarket. The one where Dad buys all his booze from, the booze which I later ended up stealing. I stopped. I didn't continue walking once I realized that I was just in front of the dirty-glassed sliding door which held an open sign that was probably written in black permanent marker. Mama Rosa's super-market, it read on the backlit green billboard just above the cheap 'open' sign. Debating whether or not to enter it, I found my feet carelessly making their way over to those dirty-glassed sliding doors. Once I had gotten close enough, the doors magically slid open. I didn't enter, I waited, standing there in the middle of the supermarket entry. 'Miss? Is there anything I can do for you?' An old man behind the counter asked. I turned my attention towards him. He was about as old as Giovanni Costello. Except, Giovanni Costello had gelled slicked-back black hair, a tanned ruddy complexion, piercing blue eyes (which I inherited) that could almost see into your soul, and almost always: an overly expensive suit paired with black shiny – polished shoes. However, the man sitting behind the old paying till had a podgy dark skinned face, his bald head tightly fitted into a grey schoolboy hat, brown glasses that magnified his brown eyes to look ten times bigger than they actually were, a large belly covered with an old wooly sweater vest. That most definitely was not Mr. Giovanni Costello, my grandfather. 'Ma'am? Miss?' I was staring at him, I could hear him. Before I could stop myself, I found my lips moving. 'Blades.' I'd said it so quietly I doubted whether he heard me. Proving my point, the man asks 'excuse me?' I looked up at him and shook my head, using my hand to wave him off. 'It doesn't matter' I told him with a forced smile. Without wasting another moment, I swiveled around and walked towards a green 'health and beauty section' sign. What am I doing here? I asked myself. I was looking for something, I was looking for – for blades. There was the ladies toiletries section on the left, and on the right side there was the men's toiletries section. It was just under the razors in the men's section. 'Gillette pro-glide' that's the same razor Dad uses. I thought. My eyes wandered under the razors, I saw them. They were placed in a small yellow paper box. About half of them were already taken. 'Gillette 7 O'clock – sharp edge' it said. I dropped to my knees and kneeled on the white tiled supermarket floor and picked one of the many yellow packets that were held in the small paper box. Using my free hand, the one that wasn't holding the packet of blades, I pushed my weight off the ground. I'd stood up in such a way, that my body was facing the end of the health and beauty section lane. I was facing the chilled drinks section. I made my way over to the fridge and opened it. At the very top section of the fridge held the waters: flavored water, fizzy water and regular water. In the section below that, there were the juices: Mango, Apple, Orange, Mixed, e.tc. Below that, the energy drinks and lastly, the Soda section. I lifted my body up and on-to my tiptoes and reached for a grape flavored water, which was placed all the way at the top. Grabbing it, I turned and closed the fridge with my right hip side. Blades and water in hand, I slowly made my way over to the cashier. Upon seeing me with the two items, his dark brown eyes lit up and his hands flew over the till quickly typing out something. I assumed he was preparing a new receipt on the computer. Offering me a genuine warm smile, he held out his podgy hand waiting for me to hand over the items. Before though, I took my time examining his dark skinned hand. Each of his chubby fingers went through a thick gold ring, his also stout wrist had a cheap gold watch placed on it. Probably about three or four years old, the paint beginning to chip away now displaying the green plastic underneath it. 'Ma'am? The items please?' he said diverting my train of thought of is watch to the items in my hand. 'Huh? What?' I replied sounding confused. 'The items ma'am, in your hand' he told me nodding his schoolboy capped head towards my hands holding the items. 'Oh. Um... sorry – yeah, here' I said handing the water and the blades over. Suddenly my chipping light blue nail-polish on my uncut claw-like nails caught my attention and now, was more interesting than anything else. Using my thumb nail, I chipped more nail polish off my index finger. 'That'll be 4.48 please' the cashier said. Without sparing a glance at him, my hand quickly went to the back-pocket of my grey tight-fitted jeans and pulled out the only paper like thing in my pocket. I handed the five dollar bill and took the white plastic bag containing my items. 'Keep the change'. I turned around and said without looking back.

Uponreaching my now quiet house, I let myself in with the set of keys that weregiven to me. The usual shouting and the yelling that normally went on at thistime, had now subsided and was replaced with quietness and a sense ofloneliness. I assumed Mum had gone back to work and Dad was in his study, Tylernormally went to football practice straight after school ended in act of tryingto avoid the usual fights that happen. He normally came home at around six orseven o'clock, usually stopping at a random party that took place in the nighttime, sometimes later, depending whether or not the party is worth it or not. Removingmy tattered old ballet flats, I rubbed my sweaty feet on the carpet attemptingto remove the clamminess. I took off my green sweater and draped it over thecoat stand. Taking two stairs at a time, I ran up to my room. I set the whiteplastic bag I'd gotten from the supermarket containing my blades and my wateron my dressing table and plonked myself on my bed. Sighing, I brought my legsup to my chest and put my arms around them. I turned my head to the side andlooked at the white plastic bag that was now resting on my pink dressing table.What are you doing? What are youachieving by doing this? Ignoringand putting all thoughts aside, I leaned over and grabbed the plastic bag. Ipulled the contents out and placed them on my bed. The water, I opened and tooka long sip, the grapy goodness spilling down my esophagus. Twisting the lidclosed, I placed the bottle on my bedside and turned my attention to the smallpacket of blades resting on my pink duvet. Liking my lips, I opened the packetand carefully pulled out a blade. It also, was wrapped in a yellow paper withthe words 'Gillette 7 O'clock – sharpedge' printed on the wrapper. I unfolded the wrapper and took out the dullsilvery blade. What will it feel like?What will the pain feel like? Thensuddenly, my heart started beating erratically, it felt as if my heart haddropped into the pit of my stomach. Doyou want to feel the pain? Do you want to see the blood? Do you want to see thewound? Do you want this? I wasgetting cold feet, and I knew it. I forced myself to swallow the spit formingin my mouth, and pushed my thoughts aside. Looking down, I saw the blue veinsthat were visible on my white pale wrist. My black long-sleeved tee – shirtpushed all the way back up to my elbow joint. I forcefully carried my bladecarrying hand towards my other hand, (the hand not carrying the blade) down tomy wrist. You don't want this. STOP! Stopthis! Don't do this! I pushed the tip of the blade deeper and deeper intomy skin. When finally, I felt the sudden pinch of pain and then the painfulstinging, then I saw the small droplet of red that formed around the edge ofthe sharp dull metal. Ow! Was thefirst thing that came to mind. Why areyou doing this? You don't have to continue, there's still time to pull out. Wasthe second. But, I continued. I wanted this, I wanted to feel the pain, it waswhat I was longing to feel all this time: the pain. Altering decisions, insteadof running the blade across the blue veins, I pushed the blade verticallyalongside my arm instead of across it horizontally. Now, there was a deep redcut running vertically down the side of my arm, which I'll probably have tocover and hide from Mum and Dad. (Tyler is completely out of the question sincewe don't even talk anymore, he'll nevernotice. Well even if he did, it's not like he'll care anyway). The parentshowever, might care. But, by wearing a long – sleeved will probably suffice. IfI can pass my stoned-drunk self, right under their noses without getting introuble, surly hiding a self-inflicted wound shouldn't be a problem. 

{A/N: Hello! That's the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. What do you guys' think? Like it? Hate it? (Hopefully you don't hate it) Let me know  what you think in the comments down below. The video up above is London Grammer's  Metal and Dust.  (an amazing band and an amazing song!)