Feminine Wreck

Chapter 3 - The Voices

A/N: ~

          Okay so as promised this is a longer section, I've been really getting into this part so yeah! I've had a bit of writers block like half way through this so sorry for the long-ish wait:* ~ Pyro.-.

Can you ever hear something in the tip of your ear? A weird noise, talking, anything out of the ordinary when you're Alone? Do you hear the voices?

I do. I constantly hear them, and now they're louder than ever. When I close my eyes, there they are. Unrecognisable silhouettes littering my mind, giving me unnatural thoughts. I am impure, broken and these creatures inside of my head are constantly gnawing on my poor shattered soul, breaking me into a thousand tiny pieces. Do you see them?

These things won't leave me be, and I have begged and begged them on my hands and knees to just choose someone else but no, they will stay with me forever. They are the things that you see in the corner of your eye, but when you turn around they're gone.

You can try to negotiate with your demons, but mine just won't give in, I must be punished for being alive - my life is a sin. My eating, sleeping, breathing lump of flesh and bone is a sin, and they will punish me, forever and eternity...

What do you see when you look at a medium length piece of rope laying there? Nothing, just Rope? Well I see a potential noose, the lights in my eyes reappear when I see this, the cure to my 'illness' could be just a few footsteps away,

Yet here I am.

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When did I go to Bed? I don't remember falling Asleep? I open my eyes just to see the blurred outline of my drawers and feel the confusion of how I came to be here. After blinking a few times, I see that I was not in bed, but on the floor.

My room had been locked from the inside by me, I could see the key pressed firmly to the right from the position I was in.

Then I saw it, the blood. I must have fallen asleep after yesterday's events because there was a huge pool of dried blood just spread out nearer to the left side of me. My wrist was sticky with blood and sore and itchy from the newly formed cuts there.

Then it all came flooding back to me.

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My sweet, sweet blades.

I reach into the hole, and pull it out before anxiously making my way towards my bedroom door, firmly setting my key so that it would lock. I was certain if my mum came upstairs she would just expect me to be sleeping.

I sit down and scratch my neck silently, 'do I really want to do this?' I think quietly to myself.

But then of course my mind had already decided before I, personally, did;

'Yes, you deserve every last bit of pain you get. You fat, ugly, self centred twat, you didn't even say goodbye to Jamie. I bet she never loved you anyway - I mean, who would!?'

Then there's the laughing. Like maniacal hysterics when the voices realise that they have won before I even have time to make a decision.

I pull out the sharpest blade, and don't even wince as I drag it firmly against my already scarred skin.

I could tear it to pieces and not even care, cut off my skin without a seconds hesitation, but the voices inside of my head tempt me to keep torturing myself by staying in the god forsaken hell that I live in.

I don't even realise how many times I have sliced at myself until I look down at my wrist in horror.

They were too deep, and too high. They were from the wrist all the way to the tip of the elbow joint.

I run my finger over the pooling blood that was appearing quick out of the cuts, and start to panic as I feel how deep my finger goes into my arm with every line.

My heart rate increasing, I feel as if something is crushing down on my head, and as I have a feeble attempt of getting up, the dizziness and nausea takes over as I spew all over myself before hitting my head on the hard floor and watch in vain as the light slowly drains out from my vision and all turns black.

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"Shit" I mumble aloud, my voice cracking from the overuse of my throat due to constant crying.

Slowly getting up, I raise my throbbing arm above my hip and grip it with my right hand. I couldn't let my mum see me like this.

I head into my en suite bathroom (my dad was able to afford us a nice house before he joined the army) and clean up my sick and blood stained tshirt. What a waste, I mutter as I lift it off my body revealing the creased up bra underneath.

I briskly wet a cloth and dab it on my wrist, trying to ignore the sting, wincing with every motion.

My stomach grumbles and I realise I haven't eaten anything for two days - my best yet!

With my arm covered tightly with bandages, I pull on an oversized sweater and set out to clean my bloodstained floor before my parents woke up. That's when I remembered what day it was, and that tomorrow we had swimming - swimming and scars really don't mix well together, believe me!

Now panicking even more, I press my headphones into my ears and switch on 'Not The American Average' by Asking Alexandria.

Please don't be forced into school tomorrow..?

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"Hunny?" I quiet voice says from the other side of my door whilst also knocking is softly.

Sighing deeply, I scootch off my bed and unlock the door, peeping my head through the small crack I opened it. "mm?" I grunt.

I see my mum's smiling face before she says "Had an early night yesterday then, eh?".

She sounded unusually chirpy.

"Yeah I was knackered."

"Look, babe" she started, warily "I know that the next few days are going to be tough for you due to Ja-"

"Don't you dare say her name," I growl at her.

"Don't take this out on me!" my mum says, offended.

"Whatever. What do you Want?"

Glaring at me, she replies briskly with "Well we've decided that you will be going back to school tomorrow, it will keep your mind off things."

I stare at her in horror, then slam the door hard in her face and sink down onto the floor. Tears formed at my eyes, I was scared, and I didn't thing I could bare to see all of the faces of the twats at school, especially Riley and his crew - they would show no remorse about anything.

School is usually hell on a good day, but I don't know if I could carry on any longer if this keeps up.

\(o3o)/

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