Exposed.

{3}

I walk into the class and everyone stares in awe. I was never late to class, ever. I take my usual seat and the class is still staring.

"Alright everyone, we can stop staring. Miss Delakona, do you have a late pass?" Mr. Callahan asks me.

"I'm sorry?" I respond quickly.

"Um..a late pass? I know its probably all new to you so i'll let this one slide." I nod, telling him thanks. There's still one person staring after every one is done. But not in the way that makes me feel like a science experiment.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I say sarcastically to him while looking at the board. He gets back to reality and shakes his head.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to." The bell rings. Shit, class is over and I don't have any of these notes down. He folds his notebook back up and begins to grab his books. "You're just never late." I take my phone out of my pocket and swing my bag over my shoulder.

"You pay attention to me that much?" I still don't look at him. I walk up to the board and start taking pictures to write down the notes later. Mr. Callahan thankfully allows me to do so.

"Here," he hands me his notebook. "I wrote down everything on the board." He plops it in my hand and starts to walk out the door. He is stopped by his notebook on his chest.

"I don't need it," I say taking one last picture. He doesn't budge.

"Just take it." He pushes it back towards me. I drop it on the floor and walk out. He grabs me by the arm and I yank myself out harshly.

"Hey, I'm just trying to be nice." He picks up his notebook off the floor.

"I said, I don't need it." This time I was looking straight at him. I walk out into the hallway with no interruptions. It's lunch time.

I go through one of the exits and sit nearby on the curb. I take my bag off my shoulder and grab my water bottle and a case of pills. I open the case, pouring it into my hand having two come out. I think for a bit.

"Oh, fuck it." I pop both in my mouth and wash it down quickly. I come out here all the time but for some reason. I guess I like being alone.

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Hours pass by and I forget I got home from school. I'm sitting on the couch, drenched in sweat. My head is pounding and my knees are weak, but I'm starving. I go by the fridge and there's a note from my dad on it. I went out to get more food. I'll be back soon. -Dad  I keep the note on the fridge and look inside of it. Nothing. Guess he really needed to get food. I limp upstairs and slowly slide myself into bed. I pull the cover all the way to the point where the only thing you see is my eyes. I just lay there, silently with my thoughts. My eyes shut for a bit recapturing every moment. Now that wasn't so hard, was it? I open my eyes which seem to be glued together. My breaths are heavy so I pull the covers down a little. I hear my phone vibrate on the table next to me.

I grab my phone and see a text message. It says unknown. I open the message and see pictures, pictures of me. Scared. Crying. Exposed. My eyes start to burn from staring at it for so long. I let them drip down my face. Another text pops up on the screen; You tell, I leak. When I was just starting to recover, he doesn't let me. My hands are covering my face and its getting hard to breath. I feel nauseous. I run to the bathroom and stand over the sink. My heart hurts every time there's a heart beat. My legs have become completely numb and I fall to the floor. I hear another vibration. Please not be him again. I gain all the strength I can to try to pick up my body. I stumble across the floor just enough to reach for my phone. I'm lying against the side of my bed and looking at my phone, in total fear. Another picture was sent. This time of me, with him. Doing things with him. There's plenty more where they came from. Now, my whole body is numb and I throw my phone at the wall. I'm full on crying not wasting a single tear. My heart is going to beat out of my chest. I can't breath.

I crawl back to the bathroom and open my makeup bag. I grab my powder and smash it on the ground, breaking into small..sharp pieces. I grab one of the them and hold it in my hands tightly for a minute. Without hesitations, I slash my left wrist. The blood coming out felt a lot better than seeing those photos. I did it a few more times. Different sizes, different locations. Some on my shoulder and some on my thighs. The entire floor was just red. I try so hard to get up and clean it but I can't. I try again and somehow I managed to get on my feet. I bend down and picked up the pieces off the floor and used a towel to clean the floor. I stand up straight and glare and the open cuts all over my body. Considering the blood stopped coming out, my body was still intact. Huh, guess I should've tried harder.

I dab the cold wet towel onto the cuts and feel nothing. I should feel a stinging but I'm fine. Just peachy. I finish cleaning myself off and wash off the towel, hoping for no one to notice the red faded marks. I sit on the edge of the tub and run my hands through my hair. All the pictures are still in my mind. All the pain. All the memories. My eyes start to water again. My thoughts are quickly interrupted by the sound of a door opening downstairs. Dad's home.