Broken Beyond Repair

Chapter Thirteen

~:Chapter Thirteen:~

By now, my bed has been soaked in tears. Some kind of relief had to be felt, but I promised I would never enter that territory.

But no one was here to stop me.

Nobody would notice, the long sleeve weather had come around, so putting up excuses didn't need to be an option. Still, I found ways to worry.

It's been long since I've felt the burn of the cold blade, and if I started again I don't think I'd be able to stop. I remember perfectly well how it all started.

~:FLASHBACK:~

It had been a tiring day at school for me. A strong sense of desire for something struck me. Something got me down at the time, and I took shelter to the safety of my room.

I had heard about people who found relief in cutting themselves, and before, I wouldn't dare to do such a thing, but now the disgust towards self-destruction was slowly vanishing.

Slowly, I walked over to my dresser. Inside it was a pencil case and a bunch of other junk I didn't have anywhere to put. My fingers opened the pencil case and felt for the sharp abandoned scissors. Today, they would find a new purpose.

Yes, it started off with scissors. I was too naive to know what to use instead. The scissors were too dull to do some serious damage, but that don't stop them from leaving thin red marks behind.

The feeling of the scissors across my skin was unnaturally satisfying. The small sting that formed as I swiped it across my delicate wrist was gratifying.

Like I said, I was naive then. But over the years I grew tired of trying to hide the marks on my wrist so my thighs and hips became my new canvas for my sharp paintbrush.

I was only eleven at the time, imagine that. Starting to form a hobby of hurting yourself at a young age. Nothing quite like it.

As the days passed by, my red marks would fade, and they'd just return with the flick of my wrist causing small harm to my arm.

Over the year I grew bored of cutting, back then. For I had other things to distract me, like my school work and friends. Besides, my family wasn't as dysfunctional and the fighting had stopped long enough for me to stop my habit.

But I had to snap sometime anyways. I grew back into my old ways by the time I was twelve, cutting everyday with my new blades. It was that very winter were I had left a lot more marks behind than usual. My whole wrist covered in cuts, only a few deep enough to leave little beads of blood.

Just deep enough to leave ever lasting scars though.

~~~~

Those are the very scars I still carry with me today. If you focus long enough you can see the thin indents in my wrist. I can't say I regret the harm I caused myself, or maybe I do. The cutting was the reason my parents threw me out in the first place. Again, all my fault.

I wonder what my parents are like today, if they are still the caring parents they used to be. When the biggest problems in our life were dirty dishes.

What would happen if they saw me today? Would they welcome me back with open arms, or shake their heads in disappointment like they did the day I left?

The thought makes me dizzy, seeing their disapproving faces. Ashamed in what their daughter had become.

Sorrow passes through me, that and the urge to throw up. I know for sure where my old blades are, and I can't help but feel as if I am drawn towards them.

Harry would be so disappointed. Josh would probably send me back to ill imaginations, a light way of saying Fucked up minds (that's what the institution is called-ill Imaginations.) But I keep it short to II.

I made a friend there, her name was Becky. She got locked up there for a suicide attempt. I don't know what got her so down, she seemed like such a happy girl. But that's how it starts.

That's how I ended up there, well not a suicide attempt precisely. Back then, I was anorexic and a self-harmer. Yeah a whole lot of baggage. I wasn't aloud to be there at such a young age, and I didn't have to be, my parents only found out when I was 15.

I didn't even realize that blood was running down my wrist until it was too late to stop. There were too many cuts as it was, and I tell myself that one or two more wouldn't hurt, until I lost count after twenty.

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Aw. Why Joyce why? I feel bad for writing this, but it is what it is.

What do you predict will happen next?

BTWI GOT OUR MOMENT : Monday October 28th 2013. Right after school, my sister bought it as a confirmation gift ;D which isn't until like two weeks.

Anyways enough about my life, stay strong beauts. I wouldn't mind if you voted, commented or followed me ;)

BTW, usually institution names are something like Sea Pines or anything like that, but I wanted to get a little creative. II sounds okay to me lmao.

~:Grace:~