Ethereal ✾ ||C.S||

III. There's glass in the park

✾Ruby's pov 

Dark blood streaks ran down my wrist and thighs. Heavy, sinking feeling in my chest. Eyes watery. Soul almost drained. Brain turning into stew. It felt like it would melt and flow out of my ears.

I was numb.
It was like a weird, pathetic high. But in a way it felt like home. It felt secure. It felt familiar. This was the only place where no one could hurt me, because I was hurting myself. Doing their dirty work for them.
It felt like my heart was going to jump out of my ribcage.

I can't take this anymore.

You know how people say, "there's always light at end of the tunnel?"
Well, what if you're immune to the dark? What if you've made it your home? What if you've let your demons take over you and somehow you've convinced yourself that this is right? That this situation you're in is exactly what you deserve? Then what? Do you still see the light then? Or do you just ignore it and dwell in the darkness?

I feel like I'm a ghost, floating aimlessly, not a part of this world.
It's like I'm drowning, I can feel my lungs fill up with dense liquid. I can still get out, I can still survive, but I don't bother. Cause I'm too exhausted. I'm worn out. I don't want to survive. I just want it to stop. It's like being locked in a room with no light, windows or door. It's so dark you can't even see your hands in front of your face let alone find a way out.
The light is getting dimmer and dimmer and maybe that's a good thing. This is where I belong. In the dark, alone and hurt.

-

I check my phone and it is 2:47 in the morning. I need to get out of this house. I can't stay here like this. I grab my jacket and tiptoe downstairs carefully so my mum doesn't wake up. I lightly close the door around me and head for the park. I feel the cold harsh wind hit my face, it almost felt good. It went together pretty well with what I was feeling. It got to the point where it hurt so much that it felt alright. My feeling, my situation and this weather tied itself into a neat little bow.

God, if you're out there and if you're listening, please end this soon or maybe I'll have to do your dirty work for you too.

✾Cole's pov

Nah, this one isn't going to work.

I looked into the tiny camera screen which had a shot of wet grass displaying on it. This is what I do to keep my mind off of the other bullshit in my life. Photography kept me together. It's just something about observing things from a photographer's point of view that is so calming. Looking at beauty in it's raw form, it's just so fascinating.

I take one last long drag from my cigarette before burning it out against my arm. I fold up my leather jacket, revealing perfect, nasty little circles. I bring the cigarette in contact with my arm. I push through all the ash to get to the really hot burning bit. The pain is a deep, aching pain. It feels like it goes all the way to the bone. It hurts like hell but somehow it's very satisfying.

I was just about to leave when I saw this short girl walk up to the other side of the park. She sat on the wooden bench. I had a good side angle of her. She didn't know I was there and that I could see her. When I looked hard enough, I saw little tears running down her left cheek. Her nose was red and puffy. She had dark circles under her eyes, probably from staying up too late. She was shivering, it was very weird because she had her jacket lying right next to her but she didn't put it on. It almost felt like she was doing this to herself, that she actually wanted to shiver in the harsh, cold wind.

I never take pictures of people but this girl looked beautiful. She was so photogenic. I wanted to capture her hurt and innocence. I positioned my camera so I'd have a clear shot of her features. After taking three to four pictures, I decided to head home.

Some part of me wanted to go talk to her and ask her if she's alright. But I have a lot on my plate right now. I don't need a sack of sadness to take care of.  And with that thought, I got in my car and drove off.

-

I was transferring the pictures I took that night into my laptop. I decided to edit the picture of the girl, give it some more depth by fixing the saturation and the contrast.

Boy, was she beautiful.

How could someone look so attractive while crying?

After editing her photo, I saved it and stared at it for a while.

Why was she so sad?
Why didn't she put on her jacket?
Did she get home okay?

And at that thought I stopped myself.

What the actual fuck, Cole?

To prevent more weird thoughts like that I decided to go to sleep. I took off my shirt and changed into some boxers. I thought of that girl one last time before drifting off to sleep.

✾✾✾
Y A Y.
third down. but on a serious note, self harm sucks. and hugs for anyone who gets the song reference.
xx