I stood against the railing of the porch outside my bedroom. Everything circling around me, music and lyrics and emotions and thought filling my head. I couldnt bear to hold the pain that I felt inside of my chest. I couldnt accept the fact that I simply wasnt good enough.
I pulled the sleeves of Ashton's Teenage Dirtbag sweatshirt that I had when I visited him in Seattle, a memory he showed me, more over my already covered hands. I couldnt live with this fact that I didnt mean anything.
I slid to the floor, looking at the traffic fly by. The rips at my knees in my black jeans resembled every hurt person. The rip is still there, but we still choose to wear them out. I've been like this for the past 2 days. I havent eaten, my appetite has been completely lost. I think it's even worse than before my dad almost killed me.
That image of the girl.
That image of him.
I cant handle it.
My hands shook as my mind raced with a million images. I ran my hands along my healed thighs, my eyes darting from car to car. The tears welled up in my eyes and my heart was about to burst through my chest as my breathes got shorter.
I got up, running into my bedroom to find it. I went into my closet, searching for the box. And there in the corner, it rested. My small silver case. I went to it and grabbed it, shoving it in my bra under the hoodie and ran to my door, flinging it open.
There stood Riley and the boys. My eyes fell upon each of them. "Brin?.." Riley spoke with a shaky voice. I couldnt breathe and the room was spinning.
"I have to get out of here." I spoke too fast to process and ran past them, and down the stairs. I pulled out the small case and held it tightly in my hand as I ran down the street, running until my legs burned. I ran til I found a small antique shop and walked inside it.
There was a soft bell ringing, signaling I came in. "Hello, welcome to Madame Laude's Antiques. How may I help you?" a middle age woman greeted me.
"Um.. Hi, do you have a bathroom?" I asked her, giving the impression that I was about to burst at any minute. Thankfully she directed me and once I was inside the one person bathroom, the door was locked and my jeans were past my knees and the silver case was on the floor, as my one razor blade was in my hand.
I sat on the spotless floor and looked at all my healed scars, it was less than a minute until all the images and thoughts flooded my mind and the razor took control and slit cuts all up and down my thighs, going deeper than I have before.
Blood fell all underneath my legs, onto the clean floor. The tears finally escaped my eyes as I broke down. All my greatest fears coming back to haunt me.
I wasnt good enough for my parents.
I wasnt good enough to save Channing.
I wasnt good enough to overcome my eating.
I wasnt good enough to stay clean.
I wasnt good enough for Ashton Irwin.
My chest hurt so badly and my legs ached and finally stopped bleeding after 5 minutes, I put the razor back in its case and shoved it in my bra. I pulled my jeans up over my cuts, wincing at the pain. I exited the restroom after cleaning up my mess and apologized to the lady, telling her I wasnt feeling too good and I threw up.
I bought a silver chain to make up for it and put it in my pocket and left the shop.
-
I walked up the stairs and into the house portion. I went into my bedroom, happy no one was around and walked into my closet, grabbing the silver case and hiding it once more. I walked out the closet, turning its light off and walked out to the porch and sat in front of the railing, looking at the cars once more.
