Impulse ➳ h.s. (On hold)

04. Horrible Habbits

Jane's POV

I know I'm not a popular person, and I know people didn't actually like me in that school. I know it was becuase when I came everyone found out I was one of the 'freaks'. The inhumane people who hurt themselves intentionally. I have repeated this to my self a numerous amount of times, and I have accepted it, but for them to continue tormenting me even when I'm thousands of miles away is horrendous.

The text is from a blocked number so I don't know who sent me the picture of my locker that is now vandelized. Nothing seems to ever get better. My wounds seem to have given up on trying to heal. I've given up many times, and when I stop crying, I say I'll try harder. And I always do. Then something else happens and my already suffering soul, heart, mind, body go into a self distruct mode. So I end up back at point zero.

I sat on the toilet staring at the pictures trying to cry as silently as I could. Every single tear is another form of reassurance of how weak I am.

I stare at the picture and read every word that is written.

Slut. Bitch. Fuck you. Freak. We hated you. Stupid ass bitch. Go cut yourself again emo bitch. Ugly. Wannabe. I hope you're dead; and so on and so forth.

I don't want to do this, but I have a need to. My trembling hand reached into my bag's smaller pocket and pulled out a container that is usually used for holding lead that goes into lead pencils. Mine held a blade I broke from a razor.

I gently sobbed the words to one of my many favorite songs just to make it easier, so I won't put much thought about how this is me relapsing.

"Heaven ain't close in a place like this..."

"Bring it back down, b-bring it back down tonight. Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight..."

I pulled up the sleeve of my sweatshirt and glided the cool metal across my wrist whilst humming. Once I felt the slight sting I looked at the red liquid slowly accumulating. My heart sped up. It sped up because I know I did something I shouldn't have and got away with it anyways.

Whenever I find relief from a blade I go into some type of daze, because it's truly dazzling- that bright red line, like a highway route on a map that you want to follow and see where it leads you. And God, the sweet release and the euphoric sensation it gives for maybe a nano-second is enough to hook you. You're a balloon knotted onto a kids hand and then it somehow breaks free floating into the sky. You as a ballon are joyously thinking "Ha, I don't belong to you after all" and how ridiculously beautiful the view is from up there. Then... you realize you're really high above the ground and you're wickedly afraid of heights.

That is when reality kicks in and you grab some toilet paper-just as I am now- and apply pressure to your mark of relief.

I can feel the embaressment; it's a backbeat under my pulse. The relief I felt for that nano-second now congeals into a fist in the pit of my stomach.

"Pace yourself from me I said maybe, baby please." I say quietly.

I stay physically frozen, but inside- inside I'm so sick. I'm so sick because I promised myself the last time would be the last time, and once again, I broke that promise.

I continue to not be able to move for a couple of minutes until I realised what I originally came in here for. I throw the stained toilet paper into the toilet and watch as the water turns pink before I flush it into oblivion, wishing it were really that easy.

Grabbing my washed out blue skinny jeans I put them on as fast as I can and then grab the shirt. I realize I brought along the wrong one. Instead of bringing a loose long sleeved shirt, I brought my loose open back satin shirt. I groaned in annoyance. I looked around the seemingly magical bag that carried more than it looked like it could handle for something to cover up a bit more. Finally I found my black all-lace cardigan; it didn't cover-up much but it was a layer more.

Looking at the mirror I was relieved that the swelling of my eyes had gone down enough to the point that it was barely noticeable. I decided to add some foundation quickly just to have a more polished look if that was the only make up I have time to add. Now all that was left was my hair. I pulled of the hair tie and the big waves I had hoped for were released. Using my index finger I parted my hair down the middle completing my look.

Shoving in my older clothes I took deep breaths.

One. Two. Three.

I put on the slightest of smiles. And with that I exited.