pandemonium and shattered glass hearts.

Chapter 4.

4.

Jess's pov

It takes 5 seconds for me to snap into action, spinning on my heels and pushing the door shut. It's only once I hear the click of the lock turning that I can breathe again.

I know it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it'll buy me a few minutes alone. It's not until my hands shake so hard that the contents on the box I'm holding clank together that I realise that I'm still holding what I came for. What's inside takes my breath away, it's beautiful in its own messed up way.

There are blades, all perfect shining silver, and bits of colored glass to contrast the silver.

The edges of all these things seem to shimmer in the light, drawing me into their curse.

I know it's so wrong to find this stuff beautiful, but I can't help it.

My brain isn't working straight, and before I even notice my hand moves towards the biggest bit of purple glass.

It's cold, hard, smooth.

(Powerful.)

Purple has always been somewhat lucky for me, it's the colour of happiness.

(No, it's the colour of nightmares)

I can hear Luce moving around outside the door, hear her moving things around. Every bump and bang seems to echo through me, it's as though I've stepped through the looking glass, or fallen down the rabbit hole. It's all so strange.

(or is it? Maybe you've been here all along)

I don't even notice that I've tensed my hand until the pain hits, a sharp pain shooting up to my wrist.

'singing songs that make you slit your wrists; it isn't that much fun, staring down a loaded gun.'

The purple glass is stained with red now, it drops to the floor with a clunk. The tiles shatter it into a million little pieces, sending each one in a different direction.

My hand stings now, there's blood running down my hand, dripping onto the floor.

It terrifies me, freezing my bones so I can't move.

I can't believe what I've done.

(or can you?)

A sob escapes through my lips, surprisingly loud when it echoes off the tiled floor.

'if you want I'll keep on crying'

I'm really scared now, my hand is still bleeding, and yet at the same time it feels amazing to finally be able to get something out. I've felt so caged in my whole life, and fuck, the way I'm feeling just scares me more.

Luce's pov

I'm not stupid, I know that Jess has found my stash. I don't know how she even found out, but before I can get a word in she's got the bathroom door locked, and I'm out here alone.

I'm angry, not just angry, I'm out of my mind angry.

Sure she may have given me a teacup, reached out when I needed that hand to grab, smiled at me. But she has no right to go through my stuff, to find my private things.

In a way I'm sort of glad, i want to stop and I need help.

But that's no excuse for going through my stuff, any of it.

Before I stop myself, my hand is wrapped around the pretty china cup, it's fragile. It's beautiful, and somehow just having it in my hand calms me a little. It's made from something solid, something powerful.

It smashes easily, breaking into about 6 bits as it hits the wall. The explosion of loud noise is just what I need, it suits how angry I am.

Living in a world of silence when you feel like you're mad enough to take on the world just doesn't end well.

I can't remember ever actually feeling like this before, it feels as though I could loose it at any minute, I guess I already have. The pieces of teacup scattered next to the wall, the place it hit is left with a dent.

I dont like this, I don't want to damage anything else.

So instead I drop onto my bed, bury my face in the pillow.

A sound like scrunching paper is faintly coming from under my head. It's a note, written in delicate spider thin handwriting on a piece of notepaper.

'you aren't alone'

That's when the tears really start, I may not know much about Jess but I can recognize her handwriting.

I don't know how to feel, I've never had support beyond my popularity before, I don't know how to handle it. For the first time in ages, I'm starting to rethink it all.

Is it really worth it just to be popular? I'm sad, I can't ever smile.

Jess is starting to interest me more and more, I want to be okay for her. I don't even know why.

So why do I pick up a piece of her shattered cup and pull it across my wrist?