The Intervention

The Meeting

Red. It is an intriguing color, so bold and bright. Little droplets drip down my arm weaving their own intricate patterns with gravity guiding them. Three long and shallow cuts, nothing critical barely even superficial but it bleeds just the right amount that I need it to bleed. Such a pretty color it is. I don't even feel the pain anymore, my skin went numb to the blade a long time ago and my poor art knife never thought it'd be used this way. Well art knife, things never turn out the way we want them to do they now?

It hadn't always been this way or maybe on some levels it had. I honestly don't think I can remember. They had gotten into heavy fights before, I had thought it was normal and would never be violent. Until one day, it was. You can never be prepared for the panic you feel at a tender age when you know, intuitively, that something is very wrong and nothing can fix the way you look at life again. All I recall is shouts and a shove along with the broom being used to barricade my mom in the hall way and me tugging on Dad's arm to get him to let her go. I honestly wish I could erase that memory.

That was 15 years ago when I was 6, it was the start of all that is wrong in the lives of my family. Violence, domestic abuse in measured doses, nothing that would be too much for dear old mum and her idea that a family should be united. I think its the fault of that mentality. Not knowing when something is unsalvageable, not walking out when she should have. Today the scenario is less violent but just as awful.

Once you grow up you pick up the subtle cues in the atmosphere that you couldn't as a child and those cues keep gnawing on the back of your mind about how you can't help them out or solve their problems. Also once you grow up your family tends to be more careful now that you can think and act independently in ways that might spell court case for certain members. The line is always delicate but its hardly discernable specially when there's no evidence to back you up.

Oh look! The blood stopped. Sigh. Time for a few more lines of pain, it doesn't really hurt though maybe if I cut deeper it would. Ah, yes a searing line of liquid fire. How nice to be able to feel something other than numbness. After so many years of constant cutting it comes as no surprise that the skin has gone somewhat numb. I should've expected it with all the scars which can no longer be individual made out littering my wrist. Amazing how people always see only what they want to see and how easy it is to hide the pain and shame behind thick wrist watch.

I think I need help.

Sleep keeps calling me and all the people I know aren't people I want to confide my heart in. Sure they would be concerned, they would try to help, they might even take me away for a spell till I feel better but nothing they do can fix the damage already done. It hurts my head just thinking of what I should be doing, it feels heavy and my body is aching all over from the exhaustion. Perhaps its time for a nap?

Making my way to the bed is too great a task right now, I'll just lay my head down, my table should suffice for now.. Red again? Two glowing red spots stare into my eyes. What the? Eyes????

Wait a minute, red eyes? I take a closer look rubbing my eyes. Yep still eyes, eyes on a green angular face. Clearly masculine, high brow, aquiline nose and a thin lipped frown. Hmm.. I know that face! Said face is staring at me with no regard for personal space, its quite literally an inch from my face.

"J'onn J'onzz!" He backs a bit from being in my face to being in my personal space, am I dreaming? There has to be an explanation and the best is that I am indeed dreaming yet there's something here that is not giving off the dream vibe, in fact it's giving off the this is reality vibe.

"Pinch me?" I ask him quite sure he'll disappear if I touch him.

"You are not dreaming," his voice is soothing and deep. "you are very much awake in your own mind."