DIARY OF A WORTHLESS CUTTER
Chapter 1: Sleepwalking
Oliver.
Dearest Oliver,
It's Joshua's mum.
He's become a danger to himself.
We decided to take him to a psychiatric ward.
His arms are scarless, wrists too. Joshua covered the rest of his body in the angry red lines. He won't eat, if we make him he throws it up afterwards.
Joshua said not to ever tell you he was hurting. All he asks for nowadays is to see you though- well besides for everyone to go to hell.
He's so frail, Oliver.
When I got his belongings from his room, I found a book.
I sent it with this letter.
Read it Oliver.
He titled it Diary of a Worthless Cutter. The front page said For Oli, With Love. That's all the farther I read.
I opened the hardcover book.
The first entry was a date I remembered well. Tears had stained the page.
February seventh, two thousand and six.
Today Oli left for the states. I love him. As in more than a best mate. I have for years actually. When we were 13, I started noticing things I probably shouldn't have in a boy. The way he sways his hips as he walks. His sexy bum. When his long brown hair flopped into his beautiful brown eyes. How silky his smooth pale skin was. He's going to cover it in sexy tattoos. His lusciously plump pink lips I wish were on mine all day every day. His voice saying my name. I realized I liked Oli in more than a friend way when I started to have dreams about him. Dreams that would make a whore look like the Virgin Mary. I loved having them. I went to bed extra early if I could. Lately I find myself wondering if he liked me back. Every time I think of it I cry because I know he never would like a guy. He's ruler straight. I think about him when I wake up, when I shower, everything.
"Straight enough to be a circle." I scoff and continue reading.
I should probably go to bed, since I can't see through my tears and because I want to dream of him. It's as if I'm sleepwalking.
I flip to the next page. Tears rolling down my cheeks as I see spots of red on the page.
February fourteenth, two thousand and six.
I put the shiny silver blade to my hip.
One cut is all I need.
Through the rip,
Crimson blood trickles down.
Just one more, my body pleads.
Once the blood stops I start to frown.
Two cuts is enough.
My blood goes drip! Drip! On the floor.
Three then four.
Five makes me feel more alive.
Six, seven soon we'll be even.
Eight cuts, nine.
Everything is fine.
Ten, eleven, twelve cuts.
I never had the guts.
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
Let's drink tea with the Queen!
Sixteen, seventeen.
Didn't mean to cause a big scene
Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
That's definitely plenty.
Twenty-one.
What have I done?
With every number, I read I wished it was me instead. Josh needs me.
Next page.
February twenty-first, two thousand and six.
I noticed today that my thighs touch.
Oli sent me a postcard yesterday. In addition, he sent me a letter. Which he signed Love you, Oli. HE LOVES ME! OLI LOVES ME! OLIVER LOVES ME! OLIVER SCOTT LOVES ME! OLIVER SCOTT SYKES LOVES ME!
Awwwwwwwwwwww. He freaked out because I love him.
I wonder if he would top or bottom. I would love to feel him tighten around me as I make him scream my name. Yep, he's bottoming. Damn I would cum for that. Shit, I shouldn't think like this when I'm doing my math homework. Fuck, I have a boner. WHERE IS OLI WHEN I NEED HIM?!?! Ugh. Thank you Oliver Scott Sykes for making me horny. I'm going to go and take care of this problem.
"Holy shit." I close my eyes and imagine him taking care of his problem.
Wait a minute... He thinks I, Oliver Scott Sykes, would bottom? That's cute.
Okay, I'm going to England. He's bottoming. Moreover, I swear to God, Josh is going to be the one screaming my name. I get up, slip on some sneakers and grab my keys.
