Hurting myself, did in fact, feel good. But there was also an element of freedom in its appeal. This part of myself, I control. I knew I could end it all with this instrument if I really wanted to, or accidentally even. That's the power I had. I made the second slice of the night near my wrist, opening up a more faded scar. There wasn't all that much room to make a fresh one, not on my arms at least.
I had quietly snuck into the bathroom after Randall was finished. I will usually do that, to wash myself off as best I can without taking a shower, which would wake everybody up. I splash water on my face, my arms, my legs, the down-there region, brush my teeth, and then shuffle back to my room. One thing I've been getting better at is falling asleep after he's done. I used to cry myself to sleep, obsessing over every detail of what just happened. Why did I ever do that? It's much better to just think of something else.
I lay in bed and start to fantasize about crazy things. Visiting Dubai, for example, is one of my dreams. That's where the world's tallest skyscraper is. I'm absolutely fascinated with tall buildings -- there's something so majestic about them, something amazing that you can point to and say we, humans, made that. Pretty incredible. This race sure does a lot of shitty things, but building striking and beautiful towers that rise far above the clouds isn't one of them.
I like this moment. Lying in bed, getting ready to snooze off, thinking about whatever. I've always liked to think that this, right here, is something I'll always have no matter what, something no one will take away from me. My bed, my peace before sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Murphy
Teen FictionI snuck out again. I've made it this far without getting caught, but it's late, and Robin still has something she wants to tell me. Tonight is the night Randall could discover I'm gone.
