Suicide Season

Chapter Four

Swallowing the lump in my throat,I looked around the classroom,my wrist itched for a need,slowly I dashed for the bathroom,rushing past students in the hallway,all around me was blurry and vague,my hands shook slightly,quickly the bathroom came into view and I ran inside quickly shutting the stall,I grabbed my blade and began to slash away,the metal torn apart my skin,ripping it open sending a fire though my body,the blade swept past the thin layers and let the sickening metallic color to seep through my open wounds,suddenly the bathroom door was opened with a loud slam,slowly looking down to the stall next to me I saw the famous white converses,worn by no one other than Benjamin Paul Bruce.Sucking in a sharp breathe I kept as quiet as I could,the silence in here was peaceful but slowly the stall lock was open and there he stood,his expression holding a smirk,his eyes clouded over with regret and remorse as he looked at my wrist.He averted his eyes and kept his look into the floor,then his thick British accent spoke aloud.

"Why do you do it?" His voice sounded pained and so full of emotion,I held my voice back as I don't speak a lot,my throat was dry and on fire,his eyes were cold and heartless as they left my body he soon grabbed my bag dumping it all over the ground,papers scattered around and notebook fell apart,pencils slammed into the ground alone with several pens,my blades slowly fell from the bag one by one,along with a lighter,I only had one in case I lost my blades,and finally my last hope,my notebook,my journal.Its golden crisp pages opened up its continents to all.Benjamin slowly stepped forward taking the notebook in his hands reading out loud one of my entries

"Suicide.
It holds strength and endless pain.
The strength comes from us.
The suicide season victims.
   The pained.
     The bullied.
     The hopeless.
      The outcast.
    It was always our fault.
             We could never do anything right.
          But what we could to right is on our
           Wrist,scared to perfection
              Arms,littered with our art
                 Thighs,bruised and bleeding.
          But suicide makes us normal for once.."
             
       His breathe hitched as he spoke the words that meant so much to me,his eyes clouded over with want,he walked over to the sink and turned on the water,and grabbed a paper towel draped in water and began to walk over me,quickly I scattered around gathering all of my stuff and my notebook and ran off to the suicide cliff,my sweet sanity....