What's one more? (sequel to The Cut Only Gets Deeper)

chapter 3

Bria's pov

I lay on my bed, not moving.  I'm not sure how long it had been since everything.   Hours, days, minutes.  It all just sort of went by.  I was numb.  I was weak.  I was pathetic.  And I had no reason to move.  There was no one to move for or do anything for.  

I hear my phone buzz again.  It just kept buzzing.  It wouldn't stop.  I hadn't cut again.  But my arm still stung like hell.  

I wasn't sure how many times it buzzed.  I had lost track.  

I just lay there, wondering what went wrong.  why did he break up with me?  what was so great about her to make him love her more than me? why me? What happened at the date?  why did it makes such an impact? How could I have been so stupid to think that he actually loved me.

Look at me.  fat, stupid, ugly, worthless.  How could he love someone who looked like me?  Oh wait...he couldn't.  I curl tighter into a ball and start to cry again.  

I hear a knock on the door.  It goes away but then another.  Go away.  I don't want to see anyone right now or ever.  I just want to sleep and not wake up. 

I hear my front door open.  Forgot to lock it.  Oh well, slight chance of someone coming and murdering me.  Not a bad idea at this point.  It closes.  

"Bria?  Bria? Where the fuck are you?" I hear Rosy call.  I ignore her calls and roll over, rocking on my side.  I hear my bedroom door open and she walks in, sighing heavily. "Bria?  Oh god.  It' been almost a week Bria.  You gotta eat something.  I can tell from here you are only skin and bones. Come on."  she walks over to me and gasps, i'm guessing seeing my arm.  "oh god.  did you do that? come on.  we need to get that cleaned and checked out. lets go."  I ignore her and roll back over, facing the opposite side of her. 

"god dammit Bria!  Get the fuck up!" She yells at me.  I slowly get up, looking at her.  "thank you! finally.  Stop fucking moping around, get your ass out of bed, eat something, and get back to boxing. First, we are going to clean up your arm and then we are going to get something to eat.   While doing that, we will talk about it all. ok honey?"  She looks at me with care and sympathy.  

taking my hand, she pulls me off my bed and to my bathroom. Grabbing a washclothe from the rack, she starts to clean my arm, making it sting more.  I sit there, not really reacting at all.  I count my cuts. 

8.  Only 8.  It felt like 100.  And they weren't even really deep.  Only the ones that get the line of crimson.  

She takes a box of band-aids from the cabinet above the sink and neosporin and starts applying them onto my cuts.  Four band-aids for eight cuts. Not bad. 

She takes the washcloth and puts some soap on it and wipes off my face.  Rinsing it out, she cleans my face the rest of the way.  

"alright.  there we go.  Now come on, get changed and we are going to go eat."  I don't ignore her and go get changed into a pair of shorts and different shirt.  I stand there and look into the mirror, picking out every flaw.  

It feels just like I am back in the UK. Where i hated my life and prayed every night to not wake up the next day.  My so called  best friends hadn't even come and try to find me.  Rosy had said it had been a week.  I don't blame them though.  who would want to be friends with a piece of shit like myself.  I don't even want to be me, much less be friends with myself. 

I stare into the mirror, eyes blank.  Everything was numb.  I felt nothing anymore.  I had no emotions.  i was past the crying stage.  everything was nothing. 

I hear a knock on the door and the creak as it is opened.  "Bria.  Come along." Rosy says sweetly.  I turn and walk towards her.  "Do you want to grab your phone?" She asks quietly, holding the door open for me.  I simply turn and grab it, sticking it in my back pocket.  "Ok. let'sgo."