How did it get so bad...?

chapter 6

"so about cutting, how bad is it?"

"well...its ok...I mean, I dont let it bleed much."

"C'mon" Liz grabs my hand and drags me across the room. I trip over every possible trip-over-able object/being...to all my friends discomfort. No one likes being stepped on--of course.

"What? Where are we going?" I try to wriggle away, but her grip is made of steel.

"Oh gosh, stop freaking out!" She leads me into the bathroom and flicks the lights on. "Okay, so show me the scars."

"Oh. Uhm. Ok." I pull of the hairties wrapped around my wrist. "There." I look down at the brown-ish red-ish lines cutting across my slightly tanned skin. Emphasis on the word slightly. The bands usually cover them up. I flick my eyes up to meet Liz's.

"Doesn't look too bad."

"Yeah, I know."

After we return to the couch, about half the people have fallen asleep.

"Always across the street, never up the road." Liz whispers to me, breaking the silence.

"What???"

She lifts up her wrist and draws an invisible line across her wrist and then up her forearm. "Always across the street never up the road."

"Ohhh...ok...Why?"

"Theres a main artery that goes up your forearm. If you puncture it, scratch it,  or even brush by it you will bleed to death."

"Oh, thats bad...I guess."

"Don't even go there. You dont want to go there."

"Well, I've tried before. But I wasn't strong enough to go through with it."

"You gotta keep holding yourself back. You have to."

"I know, I know."

"Good."

"Mhm."

Hours pass. I aimlessly waste my time.......

"Hey!" Em plops down on the couch next to me.

"Hey." I say.

"What's wrong?"

"Just feeling down, that's all."

"Why?"

"Well, it's about Tyler."

"What did he do. You know I never liked him."

"I know, I know. He just, like, one day he acts like he really cares about me, and the next he acts like I'm just a stranger. The guy can't fucking make up his mind."

"Ahhh, I see. Can you read this poem I wrote?" She hands me her iPod.

"Sure." My eyes folow the words that lit up on the screen. "Amazing. As always." I smile. I see her face mimic mine in the soft glow of the iTouch.

"Its about Will." She spits out. Her voice is cold as she says his name. Will, well he screwed up. He 'loved' Em, then left her. Again, and again.

"I guessed."

"Yeah. Why don't you write something about Tyler? It always makes me feel better when I'm upset."

"Yeah. I'll try that." She hands me her iPod, and I unlock the screen. Opening up 'notes', I start to think about all he's done. All the times he made me feel so insignificant. But I still forgave him. All the times he made me feel so comftorble talking to him. And the next day, it was like it never happened...

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

"Have you seen it?" Tyler asks.

"No, I don't watch scary movies much."

"This one was so scary, I couldnt stop crying the whole time." I remeber my mom telling me that only a real man would admit to crying. I smirked.

"Oh really?"

"yeah."

"Well, in some scary movies, I just get really shocked when something happens. Like when it takes all the breath away from you so you just freeze and can't cry."

"Oh yeah." He hesitates... "When my grandma died that happened to me. I just couldnt beleive it when my parents told me. I was like 'no way, youve gotta be kidding me'."

Coincidentally I had a very similar story. "When my dad died, I couldnt breath for like a minute. I just stopped. It all took time to sink in and then I started crying." I looked Tyler in the eye, and saw the understanding in his face. "It still hasn't sunk in completely. There are still times I look at the clock and it's 8:00 and I think 'oh, dad will be home any time.' But then I realize he never will be."

"That's gotta be rough." He says. His eyes sympathetic and warm. (How can eyes be warm you ask?? Well they can be!! Shoutout to all the people who understand what I mean :] ) The fact that he didnt say 'I'm sorry', the natural response, meant the world. He didnt just spit out the automatic. He thought before he said something.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

......and that's only the tip of the iceberg. The words come pouring out onto the page. My fingers trembling, slipping on the small touch screen keyboard. Every sentence contains a million spelling and grammar mistakes, but the words just keep coming....