Cope

The Text

"Hey" I message him.

I rest on the edge of my bed waiting for a reply.

Devo is typing... Shows up on my phone screen. I feel scared.

From Devo. I open it. "Hey" he replies bluntly.

I think for a second only having selected the laughing emoji. I delete it. I remember the conversation we had in the car.

"Hey I know you like Hylah, you can be with her if you want." I send it with no fear he'll say no.

He replies "I'm so sorry Alyssa I was going to tell you! Lys, I'm sorry."

My heart drops, I feel my eyes start to water as I pull my hand into my sleeve to catch the tears. I decide to just let the tears roll down my cheek and drop off my jaw, landing on my pants and some on my phone screen.

I type: "I knew it. When boys find someone better they always leave. I'm a rebound though It's all good I'm used to it remember?" It sends, though I lie to him knowing he knows the truth.

I cry to the point when I can't see at all and I drop my phone. My face is soaked as I wipe away the useless tears. I knew this was going to happen, yet again I stand in a puddle of denial.

I pick my phone up and see:
From Devo
From Devo
From Devo

Listed in a row. I open them.

"I'm so sorry I really am."
"I'm a fucking asshole either way!"
"Honestly I just really wanted you to be my sis." He says.

What? Sister? I freak. I then type: "wtf sister? You kissed me! ^^ (Not sending)." I screen shot it and next delete it. I send the picture to Alex.

From Devo pops up again, would you look at that? Deja vu.

"I fucking hate my life I am sorry. I fucked up, either way I am a prick, I get it." He says fishing for pity and forgiveness.

I grind my teeth together. "Gn Devon." I say out of uncontrollable anger.

After, I make a group chat on Instagram with Alex and Hylah. As I type the message I shake, crying more than I have in years.

"Okay so Devon likes Hylah and I'm cool with that." I pause. "I told him y'all can do whatever you want," I lie to myself. "I'm hurt but it's chill all I want from Hylah is to please be nicer to me and don't rub this in my face. Thanks. 😂💞" I finish not fully saying what I was feeling; but I never do anyways.

My mind is racing thinking about everything and everyone. Warren was right about freshmen, we are dumb, Devon probably never liked me and also thinks I'm dumb as he laughs it off with Warren, Hylah will always be better, Alex is one of the best god damn people alive, and I'm ugly and worthless...

I throw my phone and grab a small container holding old parts of jewelry and small pieces of metal. I place it on my thigh crying cause I know how low I'm about to sink.

Barely being able to function I open it and shuffle through the trinkets finding a blade. I cry harder, just the thought of past times I've done this hurts. I've been clean for more than a year too.

I place the blade on my pillow and put the box back. Lifting my sleeve I trace the scars on my left shoulder, my hotspot for self harm.

Bawling I align the blade parallel with the scar of a past pointless cut. I dig in the blades corner dragging it at an angle across my shoulders surface pushing it in harder the more I think of him.

I drop it as my arm bleeds, falling down through the grooves of my shoulder. "Asshole..." I say to myself as the tears generate again.

I go in again making more cuts, each one a little less worse the the previous marking. I make and X, and then continue down my arm in a list of horizontal lines.

My tears are gone, all that's left is pure hatred and the cuts yet to be scars remaining on my shoulder. I watch the blood dry. My minds focused on the picture I've drawn on my body. Art, I self-consciously say.

I take my fingers and push together some of the cuts forcing out more blood. Watching it drip down my arm in satisfaction as I bare the pain.

I then get up making way for the bathroom. I lock the door for closure and grab a cloth, running it under the water.

I view myself in the full body mirror, disgusting. I now pull out my phone and take a picture of my masterpiece. I was about to destroy it's beauty.

I take the cloth and drag it across my iterated skin causing it to burn, I couldn't handle it. I started crying again while watching myself clean up the mess I made.

Finally I finish... All that's left is dried blood and pink puffy lines. I'm an artist.