(A/N) This chapter has content that may be disturbing for some readers. Please do not continue with this chapter if you are uncomfortable with blood or situations involving copious amounts of blood. Thank you for staying with this story for twenty two chapters, to all of those who are reading!
Chapter Twenty-Two
GRACIE'S POV
Something stirs inside of me whenever I think about my life. Something like a bird trying to escape from the dark. I believe that the reason we're afraid of the dark is because without light there's no reason to see. If we're so blind, then what's the point of colors? It's to show people beauty. And if something can't be beautiful, there's no point in living.
From what I've heard, Serena and her boyfriend are beautiful. They sound amazing. I believe that Castiel's cupcakes are beautiful. They represent a stronghold for this family, and I'm scared that I won't be able to hold on to much longer. And Sam and Dean, in their way, are beautiful too. Saving the world every way they can, even if it means sacrificing themselves.
I wish that a part of me were beautiful. I wish that a part of me would try and face the mirror. Every time I look at my reflection, I have to turn away. I look tired, and hungry, and dying... when I picture myself happy, I'm someone else.
Serena and Cas are doing God knows what in the kitchen, laughing like the pair of idiots they are. Don't get me wrong, I say that lovingly. I've locked myself in the bedroom, with only the dim lamp on. The light reflects silently, sorrowfully, across the blade of the knife. Cutting again.
I'm sitting cross-legged on the top of the bed. The covers are neatly made up, crinkling slightly with my weight pressing down on the thin mattress. My hair is up in a messy bun, because it gets in the way if I leave it down.
I drag the silver blade across the edge of my skin, cutting deeper and deeper with each return to the wound. I manage to keep a straight face; it almost hurts not to cry. I know that I have to keep going. I have to stay unconflicted to get through this.
A grimace breaks through the barrier on my face when the knife hits something hard. A splitting pain wrenches through my body, and I saw a hairline fracture deeper against the bone. It hurts worse than Hell. I know it does. But that's the whole point.
I take to the top of my shoulders. Slicing through flesh is like slicing through cheese, or clay. Blood slicks neatly around the silver if you're precise and not messy. It was messy when I tried to kill myself. I was a complete disaster then. Now, I'm more careful.
I hold the blade up into the light. The pale white reflects off the red hue like the moon's reflection on water. I tilt my head cautiously, gazing at the simplicity of the coloring.
My eyes focus on something just past the blade. A human figure. I scowl once I see who it is: take a guess. That douchebag just has to barge into my life at the most inappropriate moments. It's really annoying.
I sigh. "How long have you been standing there?"
Lucas doesn't smile his lopsided smile. He just keeps his eyes following the blade.
"Long enough," he answers. His voice sounds like honey melting into tea.
He walks over to the bed and sits down. I subconsciously lean away from him, not wanting to be any closer than I already am.
Lucas reaches up to where I'm still holding the knife. His hand wraps around mine at the handle, and together, we bring the blade down into my lap.
Lucas leans forward and whispers into my ear. I hold my breath, and a nervous flutter erupts in my stomach. Don't get any closer, don't get any closer...
"I never knew how pretty you looked," he speaks, his warm breath tickling my ear. "When blood streams down your arm."
I take this chance to look down at my limbs. I hardly noticed the ribboning red stripe circling the circumference of my arm. I clench my fist, catching a small pool of red liquid, warm against my skin.
His arm reaches across and touches my shoulder, right where the wound is. I flinch a little as it stings.
"Don't be afraid," Lucas whispers some more. This is wrong, I know that this is wrong. I just don't know what he's doing. "I won't try and stop you."
His hand travels the length of my arm, tracing the river of blood. He turns me around so we're facing each other. His eyes lock against mine as he lifts his finger to his mouth. And licks it. He takes my blood into his mouth and savors it with his tongue. He reaches down, his hands cupping my shoulders, and places his lips on mine gently. I can taste a subtle tangy sweetness of blood on his tongue. I know it's weird, strange, actually really seriously creepy. But I don't mind. Emotions are choked down into the depths of my soul.
He releases me from the curse of his lips, but keeps our foreheads touching. His eyes are as green as the Emerald City, and I feel like I'm going to get lost in them and never return.
"You're beautiful right now," he says, completely serious. "Absolutely beautiful."
His hand reaches down to the knife in my lap. Blood drips down across the handle. Warm, crimson, human blood, Angel blood. My blood.
He takes my arm in his hand, pulls it out so the pale, thin skin is showing. He drags the knife in thin lines, with small droplets of blood rising on the surface of the snowy whiteness. I bite my lip to stop from crying out loud. It's even more painful, even more glorious, when someone else is cutting me.
"Don't hold back," Lucas whispers, keeping his eyes on the blade. "Cry out. I like it."
He draws the next couple of lines in swirling patterns, intricate designs I could never decipher. Each time a nerve sings out with a burning sensation, I gasp. I let small whimpers escape my mouth. Lucas grins a little more each time.
He takes my finger and places it on the blade, the orange-red blood circling around my skin. He takes it and puts it in his mouth, as if we were just a couple tasting chocolates.
I don't resist. Somewhere inside of me, something is screaming to get a grip on reality, sanity, to hold on to frickin' anything in this universe, because I think I just hitched a ride to Crazyville and there is no going back. My mind is broken from this point on.
Lucas takes the knife to my other arm. He holds the entire edge across my skin, slicing and sinking deeper across the first layer of skin, until I can see something silver pierce the other side. He's cut clear through me. The pain is like someone jabbing a thousabd needles into my brain. It's prickling, ticklish, and I hate it, but at the same time I crave it. Lucas takes my arms and pulls me towards him. The taste on his lips is still like blood, something so sweet and sour and disgusting but amazing at the same time.
"Until next time," he finally grins his backwards smile. "Don't stop cutting, Gracie Belle. I like your blood."
He disappears.
I blink. What just happened?
Well clearly I'm completely deranged for not killing him the minute I saw his face, especially for letting him touch me. Also for letting him drink my blood. That was kinky, if it was anything. I'm also very, very, very distanced from sanity because I enjoyed Lucas's presence. He's the only person who's told me to keep cutting. Not giving me advice, or therapy, or shit about being depressed. He encouraged me. And sorry if I'm wrong... but I like that. I like it a lot.
With a quick flick of my wrist, I shove the knife underneath the bed. I untie my hair and let it flow loose around my scarred shoulders. I take a bottle of rubbing alcohol from underneath my mattress and pour it across the wounds, half-relishing the beautiful burning, like liquid fire, against my raw flesh. I throw on a pair of half-tight jeans and a sweatshirt, so no one can see my scars; they won't know I'm cutting. Castiel might not be my father, but he thinks I'm his daughter. He'll throw the hissy fit of the century if he sees I'm still cutting.
I take deep breaths, nerves running like angel hair pasta through my body, before stepping out into the hallway. Small murmurs bounce across the cement, muffled from the door to the refurnished room. My sister, or Castiel, must have called in the cavalry.
The Winchesters, I think as I sigh.
Well, it's never too late to make amends.
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Innocence (Burning Beliefs #1)
Fanfic*COMPLETED* Gracie Belle isn't normal -- she has visions. And when she discovers why she has these powers, she's pulled into a world of Angels, the paranormal, and deception. The charming half-demon Lucas takes her by storm, her sister Serena falls...
