Lacey
Day One: I slammed my flimsy white door leading in to my dorm room shut. My cheeks are hot and my throat is dry. Rushing over to my wooden desk I tear open its drawer. Frantically I shuffle around, ripping papers out. My heart is pounding out of my chest. It's like a construction worker using a jack hammer. Finally, there it was, the sweet silver blade of escape. My hands are shaking and numb. My mind is saying “ No Lacey don't do it put the razor down.” Unfortunately my body is a rebel. Trembling I walk over to my mirror. My cheeks are red as well as my eyes. Looking down I bring the razor over to my porcelain color arm. As I press down tears slip from my hazel eyes. Gliding the blade across my skin, blood trickles out. Lifting the razor from my skin I repeat the process up my arm. I do this until I'm numb.
Waking up I'm in a paralyzed state. My body won't let me move. It's in too much pain, I'm damaged. The thin mattress I'm lying on makes the soreness even worse. The rods from the bed frame are digging into my boney back. Pushing myself up I collapse under my own weight. I feel pathetic, my arms can't even hold me up. They're fragile and useless. Swinging my pale legs with scars, over of the edge of my bed , I force myself up. Picking up an old sweatshirt I pull it over my head. The gray hoodie will cover my scars and new cuts. I wish I could go back to sleep but I have class. Heading over to my closet I grab an umbrella. A bolt of lightening illuminates my dark room. 1....2...3...4....5...6...7...8 thunder rumbles sending me into shock. Ever since I was little I hated storms. Grabbing a tissue I wipe the dry mascara stained tears off my face.
The rain pours down my dark brown hair as I walk back from class. My red umbrella broke on my way there. Again I'm crying but no one can tell because of the rain. Tilting my head down I look at the sidewalk as I walk. Glancing back up my vision is blurry. A combination of the rain and tears are clouding my vision. Wanting to get out of the rain, I walk briskly back to my dorm. My foot catches on some guy's leg and I hit the pavement.
“Oh crap Lacey I'm sorry,” the stranger says reaching down to help me up.
“How do you know my name?” I reply my voice cracking due to my dry throat.
“I'm in your child development class. My name is Asher. I would talk more but I have another class to get to.” The boy leaves sprinting in the opposite direction towards Minster Hall.
The dining hall is my worst enemy. Walking in the smell of fried food makes me gag. All I want is lunch but, there's nothing to have. Moving over to the cooler I pull out a water. I'll grab an apple at my dorm. That's all I need for lunch. Maybe a granola bar but, that's a lot of food.
Back in my dorm room, the rain is still pounding on my window. Opening my back pack, I grab my Mac laptop out. Pulling back my navy blue comforter I crawl into bed. Raising the lid of my laptop the screen turns on. Immediately I sign into Netflix, I decide to watch Lord of the Rings. It's one of the few things that make me happy in life. Reaching up behind my headboard I feel around for my metal fruit basket. Clutching an apple I wipe it on my shirt. Mmm this is what I needed, my hunger is subsiding. After about one movie, the hunger creeps back. Getting up I head over to my desk. There is a box of Fiber One bars on it. As I am about to unwrap the bar, the cloth that I used to clot my blood catches my eye. The gray bloodstained towel brings back the terrible memories of this morning. The moment I see the towel my appetite vanishes.
Day Two: As I wake up my teeth immediately chatter. My dorm room always has to be so cold. Rolling over I face the white painted cylinder block wall. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I go into fetal position. Today I'm not going to class. I can't bring myself to get out of bed. My mother is coming tomorrow and I need to mentally prep myself. The reason I'm so messed up is because of her. Fading back into sleep, my dream wanders into my childhood. The picture is cloudy but I know the scene. It's my first day of high school and I'm in the kitchen. My Cheerios are place on the granite counter top. My mother forced my dad into redoing the entire kitchen. Before, the counters were marble. Putting the metal spoon to my chapped lips my mother walks in. She had a house showing that day. She was wearing a navy blue skirt suit with a pink blouse underneath. Seeing me eat a judgmental look forms on her face.
