My Blades

CHAPTER THREE

   English felt so long today. Caleb just had to sit next to me. I put up my hood to avoid eye contact with him and he didn't seem to care. He paid no attention to me, just looked up at the board. Weird.
   After that class I had no other subjects with him. I sped out of the school as fast as I could to get to my car. I opened the door and hopped in. I couldn't get home fast enough. I couldn't deal with everything around me.
   As soon as I stepped foot into my room I broke down. Tears falling down my face. He kicked me today. He physically abused me again and I couldn't do anything about it. No one listens no one cares. I can't feel anything anymore. I'm too numb.
I start frantically clawing at my arm, ripping it to shreds. That usually doesn't help with my pain so I go to my ring box and open it. Inside is my blade.
I have become very close friends with my blade over the years. It helps me when I have a problem and fixes everything. It makes me feel better.
I slice my wrist once. I let out a loud breathe. I slice it a second time. I watch as the blood runs down my forearm.
"I'm still alive." I say softly.
I start crying and get a little angry and take my blade and put it to my skin again. This time pushing hard and slicing really fast. I add 10 more, to the hundred that's already there.
I walk into the bathroom to wash off the blood and put on my favorite sweatshirt. I sit on my bed and start doing my homework. (Even though I don't talk at all, I still pay attention in class.) I think about how Caleb was nice to me and then how he beat me up and left a huge bruise on my side.
After I finish my homework, I'm exhausted. I skip dinner and just go to sleep, I have nothing else to do anyway.

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The next morning, I get up and shower, brush my teeth, and picked out my clothes. (Which today was baggy pants, a white t-shirt and a baggy sweatshirt.) I grabbed my keys and headed for my car.
I got in my car and drove to school. I parked in the same place I did yesterday and went straight to my locker. I grabbed my books and made my way towards the library. I caught eye contact with Caleb before dropping my head. I felt a pair of familiar hands grab me and take me to the exact abandoned hallway he did yesterday.
"Why don't I give you another bruise bitch!" He yelled. He picked me up, slamming me into a wall. He started kneeing me in my torso and then punch me in the jaw. I fell to the ground and started crying.
"Watch out. Whores aren't given respect." He spits.
Shortly after he watched me roll in pain he left. The tardy bell rang. I guess I'll skip first hour.
I see Caleb staring at me with pain in his eyes. I look at him, still crying, and attempt to stand again but he hit harder today. I fell and he rushed over to catch me. He held me in his arms and looked at me, thinking about something.
"I'm so sorry.... I didn't know...." He says, looking down.
"Don't tell anyone." I say short sided.
He looks at me in aw.
"Why wouldn't I tell someone?! He's physically hurting you!!"
"You won't say anything because if you do, his friends will come for me or even worse, his dad."
He looks at me with shock and an unknown emotion.
He lifts my sweatshirt off of me and then lifts up my t-shirt. He examines my two massive bruises and looks guilty for a millisecond.
Suddenly his head jerks to my arms. Shit! I forgot they were there.
He grabs my arms and brushes his finger against them.
"Let's go somewhere else" he states.
And that's all he said, and soon we were in the parking lot, getting into his car.
"We are going to go somewhere special. And in this place you will tell me everything."