Jellybean Jones

Chapter 70: Losing Control

TW: Speak of self harm for nearly the entire chapter.

Jellybean POV
There were only four days left in May, so, naturally, the weather was getting rather warm. Being as self conscious and anxious as I am, my whole life I've refused to wear shorts. The only times I show my legs are the few times I bother to wear a dress. This usually wouldn't be a problem because I just wear t-shirts, but today was different. Because today there were red lines clearly visible on my wrists. I looked at them in the pale sunlight that flooded through my window.

I felt ashamed and incredibly guilty. Had I really done that to myself? I was flooded with a massive amount of regret. As if to counteract these strong emotions, I cut my nails as short as I could manage. This prevented me from hurting myself with them as well as took away the things that had already done the hurting.

I continued to stare at my wrists in a regretful manner. It had felt so good, so right, but now if feels so wrong. I didn't understand how this could happen. I had liked it, but now I can't even fathom how I did it. I wiped away tears that I didn't even know were there. Part of me wanted to tell Jughead, but I hadn't and I still don't know why. Maybe so he wouldn't worry about me, or maybe I didn't want to disappoint him. I had promised him that I would stop and I had, for a while.

It didn't make sense. I had been able to stay clean for so long and something as simple as a boy being an asshole had sent me spiralling. My confusing thoughts were interrupted by my brother's voice. "Jellybean? You coming?" I hesitated carefully over my words, not wanting to say the wrong thing and imply that I was hurting. "Just give me a second!" I called back, trying to sound casual.

I hurriedly pulled on black leggings, but discovered that all of my thin long sleeves were dirty. I whimpered in a pathetic sort of way and pulled Adelaide's sweatshirt over my head. I inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. I brushed my unruly hair and pulled it into a halfhearted ponytail. I made my way to the kitchen, where I found Jughead, eating, of course. "Isn't it a little bit hot for a sweatshirt?" He asked nonchalantly. I shrugged, not wanting to bring attention to myself. "Anything you want to talk abo-" He begin. I cut him off. "No." I said quickly. Maybe a little bit too quickly.

Jughead POV
My one good guess was that she had hurt herself again, but it was obvious that she didn't want me to know. Though it was hard for me, I chose to drop the topic. We ate in an awkward silence, which was rather abnormal. Jellybean seemed incredibly distant. She wasn't in the room anymore, she was far off, lost in her thoughts. It concerned me, but I knew it would only cause an argument if I tried to figure out what was really going on.

"Where are you right now?" I asked instead, she barely seemed to hear me. She didn't look up, only continued to stare at the floor. "Lost in a fragment of the utmost regret." My little sister spoke dryly, but it was more poetic than she knew. "Should I be concerned?" I questioned softly, even though I knew whatever the answer may be, I would be more concerned than words could possibly describe.

"If you want to be, I suppose." She said in a voice that I didn't quite recognize. It wasn't her voice, it was old and mature and scared and sad. She was about to speak again, but her words seemed to get caught in her throat, resulting in a nearly silent sob. "I'm such a fucking idiot!" She said suddenly, her voice much louder and more aggressive now. Her whole body seemed to tense before she started to shake slightly and her breathing was starting  to become laboured.

Anxiety is such a bitch. "You're stronger than that." I whispered. "This is going to be over in a minute, just try to breathe, okay? You just need to breathe. Nothing else. You don't need to think about whatever's hurting you right now, it doesn't matter now, it's superfluous. Completely superfluous." I tried so hard to calm her down, I always tried so hard. I just didn't know if I was doing it right, I didn't know if I was helping at all.