I ran so far and so fast that I had to stop and catch my breath. My mouth was dry, but I didn’t care. Right now, I didn’t care about anything.
I walked a few more blocks until I came across and old abandoned house. I pushed open the graffiti ruined door. Inside was dark and creepy. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. I made my way down the long corridor in what used to be a sitting room. There was a couch with a plastic covering in the middle of the room and a few lamps and a mirror. I sat down on the couch, not caring if it was infested with bugs or anything. I didn’t care.
How can someone just tell someone else they deserve to die? Am I really worth nothing? I am just some disregarded, chewed up, spit out piece on gum on a concrete floor? I bet I am. Anyone could just step on me and make me feel so much worse than I really am. I hated people for hurting me. I hated myself.
I got up from the couch and screamed. I flung my hands in the air, hitting the lamps, causing them to fall. I went over to the mirror and looked into it. What I saw didn’t amuse me.
“You’re nothing.” I whispered to my mocking reflection. “You’re nothing, and nobody cares.” I whispered again. Suddenly, my fists pounded into the mirror. I screamed again and stepped back, looking at the mess I just made. The poor mirror was broken to pieces, just like I was. My knuckles were cut up, but it didn’t matter. I grabbed a sharp piece of the broken mirror and collapsed on the floor. I backed up until I felt the cold, icky wall on my shoulders.
“Nobody cares.” I whispered, raising the glass. Swiftly, I brought the sharp piece of broken glass across my wrist. A thin scarlet line appeared on the whiteness of my skin. I studied it for a second, before I slashed my wrist again. This time harder. I grabbed at the broken glass that surrounded me, squeezing it until my own blood seeped through my fingers. Looking around, I found the sharpest and pointiest piece of glass. I wanted to end it. Raising the glass right above the vein in my wrist that would surely stop everything, I stopped. I heard footsteps enter the house.
“Hayley? Are you in here?”
It was Riker.
“Hayley?” He called again. I closed my eyes, listening to his footsteps near me. Then they stopped. “Hayley! Oh my gosh! What are you doing?! What happened?!” He asked. I opened my eyes. He dropped down on the floor next to me. Worriness filled his eyes as he glanced at the mess I made. His eyes stopped on the piece of glass that was raised over my already cut of wrists.
“Hayley, no!” He shouted. He grabbed the glass and flung it away from me. “Why, Hayley? Why?” Why would you do this?” He asked, ripping of the hem of his shirt to wrap around my cuts. I stared at him.
“I’m nothing.” I whispered. Riker’s eyes came up to meet mine. I started bawling as Riker scooped me up into his strong arms.
“Don’t say that. You’re worth so much. Do you know what would happen if we lost you? You’re parents, Jamie, you’re friends. Me.” He said making me cry. He paused for a second. “You’re perfect.” He whispered into my hair. I grabbed on to his shirt and buried my face into his chest. Did he actually care about me? I thought.
“I care about you.” He whispered, answering my thoughts. He sat there with me, letting me cry into his shirt while he whispered calming things into my ear and smoothing out my hair, until I stopped crying.
That was the start of our friendship.
