But Could We?

Chapter 2: Her

2 days. 2 days until I hit the big 18. My mum keeps acting weird, as if this one day is going to change my life. I honestly don't see how. I have seen how people act when they are drunk and it's something I have sworn to myself that I won't do; plus I don't see the point. You feel dizzy, pour out your darkest secrets to some weirdo you've never met before, and then wake up with a headache; it doesn't make sense.

I do admit I have been feeling strange lately. It's like whenever I go outside I get this tingling sensation all over my skin and I have been to the dentist about my gums but they seem to think nothing is wrong, when in actual fact, they hurt like hell.

It's probably just worry. My mum is convinced I am this hot, popular chick with perfect skin and boys drooling over my every word. She couldn't be more wrong. Ever since dad died I just haven't really been a people person. Do you ever get that feeling that you're different? And not in that good, unique, supported way that teachers always go on about, but as in I'm not like everyone else here, I shouldn't be here kind of way?

I hate to be that typical depressed teenager with a dead dad and a mum that doesn't understand, and let's get one thing straight I am NOT DEPRESSED, but I will admit that I have been... hurting myself in ways I hate to talk about.

Finally it was the end of the day. I hate school. It's not that I am bad at the subjects or that the teachers are mean and unfair. It's the students. The low-life bullies who make others feel like shit to make themselves feel accomplished and proud. But it was over now. 2 weeks of freedom and no one to embarrass me or make me feel crap.

I put my earphones in my ears and 'The Reckless and The Brave' by All Time Low started playing. The wind in my long orange hair sends shivers down the back of my neck. But good shivers, the shivers that make you feel warm and fuzzy and-

"Yo! Watch where you are going, you moron!"

Oh no, I must have walked been so concealed in my own thoughts I must have walked into Morgan Ackerman, this ginger guy who has hated me ever since the rumour went around that I kissed his brother.

"I- I'm sorry" I replied, not really sure what else to say. I just wanted to go home. Maybe he wouldn't remember?

"Hey! I know you! You're that bitch who kissed my brother last summer!" He exclaimed.

He remembered.

"No- I-" I stuttered, but before I could finish what I was trying to spit out, a burning sensation filled my right cheek. He had... slapped me?

I ran home crying. I didn't stop running until I was inside my house and had locked the doors. My mum works overtime on Fridays so I would be alone for another few hours yet. Knowing this, I ran upstairs and cried my eyes out as loud as possible.

I don't know why I was crying... I hated crying but for some reason this one boy hitting me because of this one rumour spread forever ago had set me off. Then I remembered something.

I remembered reading an article about how many teenagers self harmed because it gave them relief... so maybe it would work for me? I know it's wrong and I would hate to be one of those girls who did it for attention, but as long as nobody saw...Out of the corner of my eye I could see the sharpener my mum uses for her eye pencil. That's a blade right?

After taking the blade and staring at it for what seemed like hours, I decided to do it. I was going to do it. Going too near the vein scared me, so instead I cut just to the right on my left wrist.

And I kept going.