I'll Keep Smiling

Chapter 1

I'll keep smiling. Even when it hurts.

I'll keep smiling. Even though no one cares.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thana hesitated at the door, staring at the painted red, oak door. Well, it wasn't that red anymore. No one has painted it for probably decades, the paint peeling to reveal the original wood color. She scowls slightly, glaring at the door, as if hating it would make her troubles go away. She was late already. So why can't she make herself open the door? Taking a shuddering breath, Thana turns, leaning against the door, shoving her hands in her coat pocket.

Her gaze drifts to a pair of moths circling each other under a dim street light. Were they really so carefree? Without worry? Having fun chasing each other in the fading light? A sudden surge of longing and loneliness wells in her throat. The moths were free. They could fly away into the night while she was here standing on the pavement. Alone.

Her father had died in a mass shooting when she was 10. Old enough to remember. But not enough to save him.

"5 years, 5 months and 16 days ago," she thinks. She doesn't count. She doesn't even care. But the dates just build up in her mind nonetheless. As if constantly reminding her when her life was first torn apart. When her mother, who she now calls by her first name, Teresa, first started taking drugs and drinking way too much. When her family first fell apart. When she first fell into depression three years later. And started cutting another year after.

"When my perfect world was shattered."

Taking a deep breath, Thana forces the overpowering emotions down. She can't lose control now. Not after keeping it for so long.

"Keep it locked away in an iron heart," she whispers to no one in particular. Turning again, she twists the doorknob, pushing against the door. It doesn't budge. She frowns slightly. That was different. Her mother was almost always home since she had nothing better to do after she was fired. So why was it locked? Is she not home?

Thana glances at the garage. The car wasn't there, the garage door wide open. She curses under her breath and jogs over, smacking the button to close the door. How many times does she have to tell Teresa to close the freaking door? She stalks back up uneven stone paving and front steps to the worn out wooden plank that was the front door.

Thana pulls out her key, struggling to get it in the keyhole after not doing it for so long. After numerous tries, she finally got it to fit, twisting the head 90 degrees until she heard the satisfying click of the lock shifting out of place. Shoving the door aside so hard it banged against the wall, she stepped into her house, only to be greeted by the strong reek of liquor. Wiping her burning nose with her sleeve, she kicks the door shut, tossing her backpack carelessly aside and strides straight for the kitchen.

Thana glances around for any sign of Teresa. Not that it mattered. Teresa didn't care about what she did, why would she care now? She opens the top drawer, where the forks, spoons and knives were kept. There was the spoons. And the forks. But the knives section was...empty.

Thana slams the drawer shut, listening to the clattering of the forks and spoons. What the hell? That's not normal. The knives were always there. Struggling to calming herself, Thana heads up the stairs.

It doesn't really matter. She always has a backup. Heading down the cluttered hallway, Thana stops in front of her room's door at the end of the hallway. Slowly opening the door and poking her head in, she slowly steps into her room, closing the door.

Painted a dull gray with an empty dresser, an organized table and a simple wood framed bed, there wasn't much for decoration other than a faded poster featuring a cat saying "SMILE!" in big pink letters from when she was eight that she hasn't bothered to take down yet. Lifting her covers, Thana pulled out a long, thin knife from the foot of her bed. She nonchalantly turned it over in her hands, the keen edge glinting in the light. She kept it sharpened and clean, just for one purpose.

Thana rolled up her sleeve so it bunched uncomfortably at her elbow. Her eyes scoured her forearm, covered in half healed slashes and scars. Her eyes trailed up to just below her elbow, where her skin was still pale and unblemished with wounds. Resting the flat of the blade against her skin, Thana shivered slightly from both a dark feeling of excitement as well as from the cold metal. And onslaught of memories flooded her mind, filling with pictures and detached voices.

She remembers the funeral. The gathering of relatives from different places. The people she recognized. The people she didn't. The one thing they all had in common? They created a sea of black. Black dresses, black pants, black blouses, black tuxedos. They mimicked her internal turmoil.

She remembers trudging through school everyday. The feeling of loneliness. Self doubt. Hate. She remembers the whispers, the conferences, the fake smiles followed by pity. She remembers the kids with their happy family. Smiling fathers. Laughing mothers. Children chattering excitedly about their day. And the feeling of overwhelming longing.

It was supposed to be simple.

Just the severing of pale skin.

The slashing of flesh.

The bright stab of pain cutting through her dark world.

All powered by sheer self hate mingled with perhaps curiosity.

But it's the first cut that starts the addiction.