Pain (Danti) UNDER EDITING

Chapter 2

It took four years for the routine to start. The same routine that I've used since my father started to smash bottles. In my mind, it was my punishment. My punishment for never being good enough, for not being my best, for failing, for being numb.

I stood underneath the flaming hot liquid. Letting it cascade down my back and to the polished floor. Crimson blood mixed with the clear liquid that swirled in the drain. Small chunks of skin and dried blood flakes laid everywhere. Clinks of glass echoed through the room. The rush of water filling my bleeding soul. My skin turned red and raw as time ticked by. Flames licked my skin like a popsicle.

Over an hour I stood in the flaming hot water. Letting it melt me into a puddle. Only it turned cold, taking away my pain and misery. A white towel hung on a hook near the shower. Pale fingers wrapped around the cotton yanking it away from its hanging place. It was wrapped around my waist loosely. Letting it slip enough to show my v-line.

Green flecks of hair pressed against my forehead, sticking to the little water residue left. Eyes darting, hands shaking, and breath shallow, I made my way to my bedroom. A sweatshirt, black jeans, and boxers laid out on the mattress. The white towel was discarded to the corner, leaving it to sit in a sopping heap. More struggle came when I forced the clothing onto my still wet body. The clothing clung to me. Which is fine.

Trembling fingers reached up to fix the green mess on my head. They raked through the mess to try and even it out. Only to fail over and over again. Eventually I gave up, leaving my wet hair as the mess it is.

Shortly later a backpack was thrown over my shoulder, hitting a bruise and a couple cuts. My shoes touched down on the stairs outside the house. The wind blew a nice breeze through the neighboorhood, leaving a small chill down my spine.

I stared down at the cracked sidewalk as my feet dragged pathetically across it. My mind swarmed with thoughts, bad thoughts that seemed to plague my mind today. Inside I was on fire. My lungs were burning with fear, my nerves tingled with anxiety, and my stomach seemed to only add to the number of butterflies flying around. I fiddled with the sleeves that were pulled over my hands. My eyes scattered over the ground, avoiding the passing people who seemed to stare directly through my walls.

While looking down I didn't notice the boy walking straight towards me. I didn't notice that he was going to tap my shoulder. I didn't notice that he was going to make me fear him.

His bass voice rumbled behind me, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to run into you. Are you alright?"

I was shaking, my head was fogged over and I was struggling to think straight. The boy seemed to be waiting patiently behind me. Tapping his foot ever slightly. I didn't turn. I didn't even look at him.

"I'm fine."

He didn't like that answer, "Are you sure? If you're hurt than I can call someone."

I shook my head, "No, I'm fine."

The boy moved in front of me. He peered at me through his eyelashes, almost like he was studying me. I was taking in him. The boy wore dark colors, making him seem more dark and brooding. His iris's glistened a blood red while the black scleras stripped away the beauty within. The flannel he wore showed off his muscles, displaying his power. He seemed to take in my wimpy appearance like I was taking in his jock form.

He held out his hand after a while. Sticking it out in a sudden jolt, "I'm Dark."

I grasped my hand with his, looking at him ever so slightly, "Anti."

Dark gave me a soft smile. I didn't smile back. We pulled our hands away from each other, I took a step away from him as well. My eyes went back to staring at the grey cement.