Rilaya: The Beauty and the Broken

Chapter 9

Maya's POV

*TRIGGER WARNING*

The car journey was silent until we were a few blocks away. That was when Topanga started up a conversation.
"So Maya. Where does your mom work?"
Why was she asking? She didn't really have a great job. I'm surprised she hadn't been fired with the amount of time she takes off.
"Urr she's an actress" I lied. She didn't have to know right?
"Oh really? That's great! So where does she really work?"
How did she do that? How does she know I lied?
"Urrrrm uhhh... The nighthawk diner.."
"Is she there now?"
"No I don't think so, she's away for a few days."
I wasn't going to bother lying to her. It would have been useless.
The rest of the journey was silent. I knew there was more she wanted to say but she didn't.
Mrs Matthews pulled up at the side of my house, and handed me a suitcase that was in the back seat. I was just going to grab a plastic bag but okay. I grabbed it by its handle and climbed out of the crimson BMW.
When I reached my front door I lifted the door mat and pulled out the key I always kept there. The key wasn't particularly necessary as the old wooden door was almost off its hinges, but I didn't want to break it anymore.
Carefully maneuvering the door to the side, I stepped into the cold apartment building, careful not to step through the rotten floorboards.
The usual stench of alcohol carried out throughout the whole apartment. Mom hasn't been home today, just shows how much she drinks. Alcohol was absorbed by the time old, ripped rugs, and eventually the walls held the disgusting smell.
I made my way into my room, and placed the suitcase on my bed. This can't be real. All of it, Riley and her family. They're too nice to me, something must be wrong. Are they trying to trick me? To make me feel like I'm wanted just so they can ditch me on the curb whenever they feel like it? Did Riley even like me? What about the bully in the bathroom? Did they set that up? Was this part of their plan? To ruin me?
I'm not going to let them do this to me. No. Thats not happening. First my father, then my mother, now these guys. Is there something wrong with me? It's all my fault isn't it. I'm just that easy to push around.
These thoughts continuously flowed through my head, getting worse and worse. I didn't realise I was crying until my tears fell onto my shaking hands. Before I had a chance to comprehend what I was doing, I ran to the bathroom and searched through the cabinet on the wall; throwing the things I wasn't looking for. I eventually found it. My box. The contents of this box is my saviour, my life in a box, everything I needed to keep myself going. This included a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, enough anti-depressants to last me for 4 months, and a razor blade. My trembling hands reached for the small blade in the bottom of the box. Why does everyone treat me like gum on the bottom of their shoe? Am I that worthless?
I looked at my body in the mirror. Why was I so fat. Why did I have to weight 5 stone. I looked like a pig. Mounds of fat piled on each part of my body.
I stood over the sink. One cut, two cut, three cut four, get a life you fucking whore. Five cut six cut seven cut eig...
Eight. Eight. It was then that unreal amounts of blood started pouring down my wrists and begging to create a puddle on the floor. I carried on slicing up and down my wrists, until I eventually dropped the blade and collapsed to the floor. I was tired, really tired, and weak. My arms poured blood all over me and the floor. All of a sudden I heard my front door open.
"Maya?!? Are you okay?!?"
It was Mrs. Matthews. She can't see me like this. I tried to climb back up, but I failed and hit my head on the bath behind me.
"Maya?!? MAYA?!? Where are you?!?"
I heard footsteps running towards the bathroom. I was barely conscious, the last thing I saw was Mrs Matthews figure coming through the doorway.
And then I was out.