Own Me

Chapter Fourteen

♔ Chapter Fourteen ♔       

"What the fuck happened here?"

I ignored the question, turning as I lay on the sofa so that I wasn't facing him. Fletcher had just gotten back from leaving the flat for the first time in a few days, after finding out his mum was around town hunting him down.

"I asked you a question, Darby," he persisted. "What happened? Why's there blood on the walls?" His hands shook me, but I just lay there, motionless. I lay there as he waited, his fingers tracing down my arm until they reached my hands. He held one up in his own, running his own fingers over my bruised and bloody knuckles. Hitting myself off the wall just made me feel so free, I couldn't stop, and I couldn't be bothered to hide it from people. I felt almost proud of the marks and the bruises, there to remind me not to lose control like that ever again.

"Have you been fighting?" was his first reaction. Then, he pushed my legs off of the couch and plopped himself in their position, forcing my whole body into an awkward position so that I had to sit up. He gasped when he saw my face, but it was probably worse than it looked. I hadn't bothered to clean away the blood. I felt it crusting down my face in small trails, dripping from my head.

"I'm fine," I replied robotically. "I'm just tired."

"Did you do this to yourself?" His hands went straight to my face, checking for anything serious, his fingers ruffling through my hair and over the bumps and bruises and cuts.

It wasn't that bad, he'd decided, but I didn't care. The pain was good. I could still feel it, all over, even though it had sort of numbed. It became dull, barely there, but enough to notice. And in my hands, that was where I felt it most. From the cuts of smashing the mirror, from punching the wall. When I looked down at my fingers, I saw I'd broken a few of my nails. My knuckles were sickening shades of purple and blue and black, with dried blood staining all over. It looked so beautiful, so perfect, I couldn't take my eyes away. It made sense to me at that moment, for the first time in my life, just how exquisite pain could really be.

"I, I can't explain it," I tried, but I fumbled over my words. He couldn't understand anyway, he wasn't like me. The only person who would understand it was Isaac, but that was a whole other problem that I didn't want to deal with. He brought out my darker half, he'd only make it worse. But maybe his understanding would be worth it. All I knew was that my head was fuzzy and my entire body hurt, all because I saw something I knew I shouldn't have, because I lost control with Bobby and did things I knew I shouldn't have.

The only person who could understand how I was feeling was Isaac. He'd lost control like that before. Maybe I should reach out to him, but I was worried that he would encourage it. I didn't want it to be encouraged, I wanted it to be forgotten. I didn't want to be losing control like that, hurting people, seeing things I didn't want to see. I'd never felt so wrong before in my life, like I was uncomfortable in my own head, an invader in my own skin. I just felt so wrong.

"You can talk to me, Darby," Fletcher confessed. "You know I'm here, I won't judge."

"The pain... it just felt so good. It made me forget that I saw him. I don't want to see him again. I'm afraid that he'll come back."

"Who?"

"Someone I used to know, a long time ago."

"What's so bad about that? Seeing an old friend?" He'd calmed his voice, and it was almost weird hearing how soothing it could be, if he could just allow it.

I turned away from him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," he beckoned.