Just a warning, this chapter is a little intense. Sorry, I got inspired. Listen to the song, you'll probably get it.
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Natalie (Present)
Cameron's face flashed in my mind for the third time in the past hour. I was sitting in my room, by the light of my dim desk lamp, trying and failing to do homework. The open window behind me poured in freezing cold air, and the sounds of the busy city. I gave up on schoolwork and went to lean out the window. The wind whipped my bare face as I sat on the scratchy brick ledge. My bare feet and legs hung out the window. I bent over and gripped the rough windowsill tightly. How many times had I sat on this ledge and thought of letting go? How many times have I talked myself out of ending it all?
The dark alley below me was utterly silent until I saw a two hooded thugs dragging a man in. I climbed back in the window and slammed it shut. I never wanted to see it when it happened.
Cameron's face appeared in my memories again. Chill rolled down my spine as I remembered clutching his hand. I looked at mine, clenched in a tight fist, hidden mostly by my sweatshirt. I rolled up the sleeve and traced the scars on my arm. Cameron's face again. The scars. Cameron. Scars.
I grabbed the razor from my bag and hastily pressed it to my wrist. Cameron.
He overwhelmed me. I screamed in frustration, glad my mom wasn't here to hear me. Cameron. I pressed deeper. Pain shot through my arm. Cameron. Spots appeared in my vision. The blood poured down my arm. I felt the sensation of danger radiating through me as Cameron disappeared. In another hour or so, he would return, but until then I put a band-aid on my arm and went back to my homework.
"Shit." I said as a drop of blood blossomed on my paper. I watched it bloom and spread, curling in intricate patterns as it swirled. It mixed with the ink of the words and continued to swirl around the paper. I watched with burning intensity as it spun in wild circles about the paper. Blood and ink, red and black, dancing in lovely circles. I grabbed the pen next to my hand and brought it high over my bleeding arm. I brought it down with surprising force and ink poured into my cuts. The pain was excruciating as the designs scorched onto my arm. Together, an endless serenade of pain and pleasure, the swirls mimicked those on the paper. In perfect harmony, they flew in violent circles. I drew closer to it, invited the pain as the searing designs scorched my skin.
I shot up in bed and screamed. My wrists burned, but they looked the same as always. Just a dream. No. Just a nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
Words That Cut Too Deep
Dla nastolatkówNatalie Ferrington made one small, tiny mistake. And, seeing that she was in highschool, it exploded into a scandal that ruined the fragments of her already-damaged life. Her beloved older brother, Cameron, killed himself three months ago. Her fathe...
