Never the Same

Twelve

That girl you see, she isn't me, she's been molded to not get hurt, to smile, to agree, to bite her tongue. Ryder Johnson killed me, I fought and fought against him but he's violated me and every thing around me. I can't look at one thing and not think of him. The girl I see in the mirror isn't me. I watch myself inhale and exhale the cigarette smoke and smile.

I'm a silent fighter, with a demon in my lungs, that stole the breath right from me. That demon is Ryder Johnson.

I regret meeting Ryder, I wish I didn't have a sassy mouth, I wish I never talked to him. But the way he smiles, the way he talks, the way he laughs, it makes me want to know more about him. But I'm afraid I've seen every side to the Ryder Johnson there is. I hate all of them.

I'm like the Eiffel Tower, standing there in all my beauty, I'm the place of romance and love. Somewhere all the boys wanted to go.... But I was empty.

Ryder planted roses in my heart, daisies in my mind, lilies in my eyes and left them all to die.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and that means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up these walls and defenses, you build a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from all the other stupid people, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you, they didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day like kiss you, then your life isn't yours anymore. Love takes hostage. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase turns into a glass splinter working it's way into your heart. Not just in the imagination, not just in your mind. It's soul-hurt. I hate love.

I wish there was a way to tell Ryder how I feel without him telling me he doesn't feel the same. Maybe he does. But there's always the slightest chance possible, but maybe he already knows how I feel and he doesn't wanna break my heart by telling me the feelings not mutual.

If you listen close to the silence, I'm sure you would here the constant ringing in the space between two words. When you really pay attention, you find it's not just in your head. But instead the whispers of words. The world has left unsaid, it's "I love you" still unspoken.

With all these thoughts in my head I pull out after a whole day alone with my thoughts, all these words unspoken, just thoughts. I inhale and exhale again, the pack is almost gone, the shaking of my hands hasn't stopped, just increased. I speed home and run upstairs into the bathroom.

I find my razor blade and start cutting my wrist. I'm just a lonely girl with vacant scars on my wrists, I scream in silence but nobody cares. My pain goes unnoticed, I smile like an angel, but I'm living through hell. My eyes brim with madness as the blade cuts my skin. My smile fades and grows thin. A tear rolls down my cheek as I promise not to cry. All the blood in the sink makes me stop. I grab my pajamas and throw them on.

"You promised you'd call," all this pain was caused by this voice, this boy leaning on his window with a smirk on his lips.

"I don't want to talk. Go away," I open my window and lean out.

"I'll make you talk." He smiles and I frown.

"Or cut some more," I mumble to myself. One cut, two cut, three cut, four. Cry a little then cut some more. Open cut, closed cut, cut scabbed over. Drink away the pain, then cut again sober. Old cut, new cut, cut dripping blood. Drag the blade across and watch it flood.

"What was that?" He has his hand on his ear.

"I said or cut some more." I'm not ashamed of saying it. I don't regret it. But I do regret what is about to happen. Ryder closes his window and goes away, good. I hear my front door open then slam closed. I hear footsteps running up the stairs into my room. I gulp and hide under my bed.

"It's just me," Ryder's voice says but I stayed hidden until I get dragged out of there by Ryder.

"Roll up your sleeves." Ryder demands.

"No," I say. I will stand my ground. He pulled them up, making me wince.

"Why Aspen?" His eyes looked sad and lonely.

"You." I poke my finger in his chest.

"Let me make it better." I was about to say no but he started kissing my wrist and then my arms then my neck. He throws his shirt off and pulls me into his chest. His teeth nibbled at my skin, sending moans out of my mouth. He quickly takes off my shirt and unclasps my bra.