Pulse

8

AUTHORS NOTE: hey everyone! I know it's not Friday yet but I decided to post this one a day early!! Hope everyone enjoys :)

****

I wake up to the sound of a plate breaking, and screaming. Through my bedroom wall I hear muffled stomping and words that sound like nonsense, just yelled angrily.
I hear a door slamming, and feel the thick tense air that's caused by two people who have lost connection with each other.
When we were little we were always good at sensing the tension. We always knew when to be quiet, when to leave the house... we had code words and usually our tactics never failed.
Even as young children we understood that what our parents had wasn't love. From a young age we knew that we weren't a product of affection, but a product of social construct and hiarchy in society. We weren't born for the sake of wanting a family, but born for the purpose of gaining more social satisfaction. See, there comes an age in an adults life where people begin pressuring them to have children before its "too late". what better to prove how amazing you are as people then to have two perfect children. We were an image.
Anyways, they started with one and when they went to have the other, I happened.
Twins don't run in our family, not that we know of. Neither of my parents knew that I would develop alongside my sister in the womb, but I did. I was the unwanted one, the mistake... The back up baby.

I check my phone and to my relief (and slight disappointment) there's no messages from Mike and since it's saterday I highly doubt he'll even think about trying to get ahold of me, and why would he? didn't I make it clear that I don't want to talk to him?

Yes you do. Fucking slut.

I hear yet again another plate break downstairs, so I slip my ear buds in.
I crawl put of bed and lock my bedroom door before looking for my pack of cigarettes.

You smoked them all, remember?

mental note... I need to get more. Maybe my brother has some. Maybe my brothers friends have some.
Or maybe those girls from the bathroom have some.
In front of my mirror I strip down to my underclothes and begin looking for an outfit that I haven't been wearing for two days. I stair at myself, my sunken and tired body. My hands trace the lines that make who I am. My intense blue eyes, my swooped collar bones and the slight curviture of my hips. My ribs that just barely have begun to stick out and the pale tint of my skin. My black hair looks like I purposefully styled it to look emo. Sometimes I consider shaving it off and starting with my natrual hair.

Sometimes I wonder if people see me or if they just see another version of Sarah.

They see me you fucking bitch.

My head has started throbbing again so I take my ear buds back out, hurry up with getting dressed and look for my magic little pills. I dump out my black backpack and rummage through the grave yard of lost homework and missing assignments until I find the pill bottle. Its disguised as Tylenol.

This time instead of a plate breaking, the sound of someone falling and hitting the floor travels up to my room and I consider going down stairs and checking to see if everything is okay. I decide against it but one thing is for sure; I can't stay here today. Its too dangerous.

So I text my brother to come pick me up.

****

when I heard the knock on our front door I wasn't expecting to see my brothers boyfriend, I thought I would see my brother. I open the door slowly and peak out at the 20 year old standing on my porch. His hair is blond and curly and his eyes are the color of seaweed. He has a little bit of stubble and he's over a head taller then me. I've never met this guy, all I know about him is what my brother Jason has told me.