Stars in the City

Untitled Part 2

I come home to my mom passed out on the couch drunk as usual and my dad at the kitchen table with a half empty bottle of wine. He had little expression on his face. This was a normal thing for them. They used to hide it from me when I was younger by sending me to my aunt's house. As I grew up, they became less cautious and more open, which was fine by me. I don't have to exactly worry since they aren't violent drinkers. 

"Happy birthday, Corey." He said in a mellow manner.

"Thanks, Dad." I said with a small nod. 

That was a bigger conversation than our usual. Occasionally he'd speak, but not directly to me. Just a reference about me and it occurs when I do something good or bad. He only speaks to me directly when he sees it as a necessity, like my birthday. 

I walked into my room and softly shut the door and slowly lock it. I don't want him to check on me because I was too loud. I pulled the small black and red box from underneath my bed. It was a gift from my aunt when I had visited her a long time ago. She's been dead for five years now. Life is a funny thing. It could be a normal day and then you're dead. 

I opened it up and peered inside. A couple of photos were tied together with a rubber band and behind them was my only habit I've ever had. It was sharp and shined happily. It was like my closest friend.

I held the razor to my calf muscle and gently slid it across my delicate skin slicing a neat, clean line in my flesh.

One: for being antisocial 

Two: for my drunk parents

Three: for my aunt

I took a deep breath in and let it go. I could feel the warmth leak down to my foot. My skin burned a little, but I felt better. I put the razor back in the box and removed the pictures. I shuffled through them. I remembered my aunt so well because she was more like a mother. When I would go to her house, she'd help me with my homework and took me to get ice cream. She also took me to the zoo. I screamed in joy when I saw the snakes and lizards. 

I started to cry silently. I missed her, but I'll be okay.