Black Rose

Three

Sitting on the rooftop of my gallery, my feet dangled freely as I dealt with pain the best way I know how. There's a sting when I first slice, followed by my heart speeding up when I see the blood because it's been years since I've self-mutilated and I know this is something I shouldn't be doing, and yet I can't stop. People who aren't in a cutter's shoes will never understand why we do this to ourselves, instead, they judge us from the outside looking in. When I cut, I sort of go into a trance, because it's truly blinding. The dazzling red paths on my body are like roads on a map that I want to follow to see where they lead. And the euphoric release--that's the best way I can describe it-- is kind of like a sky lantern that you're holding on to and when you let go it drifts into the sky. But, when reality kicks in or someone interrupts me, I quickly grab a washcloth and press hard against the cut, trying to cover my embarrassment. Whatever relief there was a minute ago coagulates into a fist in the pit of my stomach. There have been days where I would literally make myself sick because I broke my promise of never picking up the razor again, but here I am with the evidence tattooed on my broken skin. What I do isn't fun nor is it something I'm proud of, but it's the only way I know how to cope with my heartache and depression that comes along with it. Back when Raine and I were hanging out, I remember hiding the evidence of my weakness under layers of clothes during the summer. He brought the issue up once or twice, but I'd always lie about being anemic and shut the conversation down. In the back of my mind, I knew he didn't believe me, but he never pressed the issue any further.

Tears streamed down my face at the same pace my blood trickled down my arm. With every cut I make, the pain I harbor got stronger. I'm weak and disoriented, I think to myself. One day I want someone to run me over and take me away from this misery and other days like now, I feel absolutely nothing--numb to the world--and I don't want to be this way. Crying harder, I threw the razor into the darkness, hearing the clinking sound it made when it hit the ground. With shaky legs, I stood to my feet, feeling my body sway due to the mild winds produced from the rain. I couldn't stay here another day in this screwed up state of mind. This is long overdue. Leaning forward, I expected to free fall--know what a bird feels like when they're first trying to fly, but instead, my body was snatched back, pulling me down from my ending. Looking behind me, Raine stared down at me with confusion written over his face.

"What the hell are you doing Suri?" He queried, never letting me go. I didn't speak, only cried. Cried because I didn't succeed in my plan. Cried because I'm embarrassed I've been caught and cried because Raine cared enough to stop me from jumping. Turning me around to face him, he buried my face into his chest and held me tight, whispering the words I've been longing for since my life went into shambles. "It's gonna be alright, I promise."

*****

Opening my eyes to an unfamiliar room, I rubbed the crust out of them, trying to see if I was hallucinating or not. Thinking the worst, I swiftly sat up and went into panic mode until Raine walked in with a tray of food. Calming down, I rested my back against the gray upholstered headboard.

"Morning. Can you eat something?" He asked, sitting next to me and placing the tray in my lap. I nodded, not making eye contact with him. I was still extremely humiliated. Picking up a piece of crispy bacon, I bit into it. "Suri, look at me."

"It's Melrose," I said, focusing on my food. "My name is Melrose."

"It's whatever I choose to call you and I know Suri, not Melrose." He spat. "Suri would've never done anything like that."

"Well, Suri is long gone ok?" I yelled, finally meeting his eyes. "Every time something terrible happened to me, a piece of her faded away, so I'd appreciate it if you'd respect my wishes and address me by Melrose."

"Alright." He shook his head. "Tell me what were you thinking last night, Melrose."

Rolling my eyes, I scoffed. "Why do you care? You've only ever cared about yourself."