Scars {Completed}

Chapter Twenty-One

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Kenzie's POV

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Come on. One cut. It'll make you feel better, and you know it.

No. I promised Mark-

Mark probably promised a lot of shit and broke it. Come on. Just a few little ones isn't hurting anyone.

I close the tiny box that sits in my hand, and shove it into my back pocket.

Stumbling over to the bathroom, I lock the door, and fall to the ground.

Oh, stop crying. You're pathetic.

"Shut... up..." I grumble out loud, through my tears.

A few cuts would make me shut up for quite a while. The Voice snickers.

I take the box out of my pocket, and hold the blade in between my index finger and thumb.

Mark's not here to stop you. Go for it.

I lift my sleeve up, and before I could contemplate what I was doing, I slash across the top of my arm.

A quick sting, and red liquid flows down my arm.

I exhale a sharp breath.

There goes one month clean.

Wow. You couldn't even stay clean for ONE month without relapsing.

I grip the blade tightly, and go across my arm a few more times.

I bring my knees up to my chest, and place my head resting on them.

I close my eyes, feeling the tears that were dried upon my face, and appreciate the silence.

The Voice had slowly disappeared, and I was left with a bleeding arm, a major headache, and a broken recovery.

I stumble, up onto my feet, and avoid looking in the mirror. Going through a few drawers, I grab some gauze, and after cleaning my fresh cuts, I apply the medical bandage.

Taking in a deep breath, I slowly look at my reflection, to see a girl with bloodshot eyes, and a trembling bottom lip.

I splash my face with ice cold water, get cleaned up, put the blade at the bottom of a drawer, take a pain killer- and finally get ready for bed.

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The next morning rolls around, and Mark calls me.

He said that Nyle had actually come up with a name for the band, but no one else but him agreed on it.

He said they should be called- "The Four Amazement's!"

"So, what are you gonna do today?" I ask, still laughing at their possible band name.

"I was hoping to come over to your place."

"You're always hoping to come over to my place."

"Well, is there in issue in coming over?" He laughs.

"No. No, there isn't." I reply, matter-of-factly, "See you in fifteen?"

"More like five, I'm already on my way." He laughs.

After we say goodbye, I hang up, and grab my laptop out of my bag, and log onto my Tumblr.

'DIE BITCH'

- is one of the first posts I see.

I read the user name, and just block the person. Roquelle.