A Million Reasons (Clony)

Chapter 10⚠️

I am already dead. I walked home as slow as possible. I even had to sit on the curb a few times, thinking I can not go any further. But I eventually got up and walked more. I have one block to go and I am sitting on the curb again.

I thought of something. Something only a few people would recognize when they find me. I pulled the little bottle of the dark blue nail polish out of my bag. I painted my right middle finger as a sort of last 'fuck you' to the world.

I waited as the nail polish dried. Hoping. Wishing. Praying. That someone. Even a stranger, would talk to me. Someone must see that I look terrible. It dried. This is it. The last block.

A few more houses. A few more feet. My house. My parents weren't home, I guess they were still at work. My mom has a meeting with the Bakers today. She decided to side with them on their case. I think what I'm about to do will make it ten times harder for her. And I'm sorry. But I can't stop.

I used my key that I had on me this time. Not the one under the plant. It was oddly silent in the house. Not even the air conditioning was on. I could hear the erratic thump of my heart. My labored breathing. I was really doing this. I am doing this.

More tears were falling. I slapped myself repeatedly trying to stop. It just brought more tears on.

"STOP CRYING!" I screamed as loud as thunder rolling in a cloudy sky. I'm sure no one heard anyway. I walked around the house. Downstairs. Upstairs. In my room I paced. Sobbing. Tears and snot were all over the front of my shirt. I ripped it off the sound of cloth ripping was the only other sound in the house other than me. I hiccuped those terrible crying hiccups and made my way downstairs to retrieve something from my bag. That something, will be very important.

I retrieved the small box, and made my way to the bathroom. This is it. This is really it.

I fumbled with the box, trying to open it.

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST FUCKING OPEN!" I cried out and threw the box to the floor and crushed it with my shoe. The cardboard ripped. I picked it up, it was much easier to open it.

My elbows rested on the counter. I caught a glimpse of my naked chest in the mirror. Have I always been that skinny? I looked myself in the eyes. The redness, the puffiness, made my blue eyes look horrible.

I wiped my face with my arms and ran my fingers through my hair.

I finally got the courage to open the box and take a razor out. One. I threw the rest of them away. I fiddled with it in my right hand. I ran my opposite fingers over the sharp edge of the blade.

I took out the nail polish and painted my other middle finger. I'll wait till the paint dries. The paint dried fast.

Nobody wants me. Nobody needs me. I've heard 'the world would be better without you here' too many times in school. Maybe they are right. I am useless. Tony didn't even want to talk to me today.

I gripped the blade in my right hand between my fingers. The razor was near my left arm, touching my skin. I pressed it harder. Harder. HARDER. And with a quick motion, swiped it along my forearm. I wailed. In a way, though, I was prepared for this. I tried to stand as the blood poured out onto me. My jeans. The white tile floor. All of a sudden, I couldn't hold the blade. It fell from my hands into the sink, splattering the red liquid on the pure white porcelain.

My vision blurred, I could no longer see my reflection.

Then everything was in slow motion. My legs gave first. I lost my grip on the sink, my arm flailing for anything. The nail polish bottle fell from the counter and shattered on the floor. The mix of colors came closer to view. I saw the blue. Hannah's blue nails. Then I saw nothing.