I dropped the razor.
No, not again. I'm stronger than this.
Tears formed in my eyes as I sank to the bathroom floor. Shaking. I felt my heart beating fast and I knew my body was going into fight or flight mood. Nobody was home to stop the inevitable. I slowly grasped the edge of the counter, forcing myself to my feet.
I looked in the mirror, looked at what I had become. My eyes were bloodshot from the hours I had spent crying. My lips quivered as I let out a muffled sob. To my left, there was a small bottle of prescription drugs meant to dull the effects of my anxiety. I scoffed. It never helped me any.
There had to be another way. A better way with quicker results. Surely an overdose would just send me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped. Cutting only numbed the pain for so long. I unlocked the bathroom door and headed to the basement. My dad usually kept his guns in a safebox, but it wasn't hard to figure out the code. My birthday. He really needed to be a bit more original.
Surely enough when I entered the code, the safe box creaked open. I removed the small handgun and loaded the chamber. For a second, I hesitated. What the hell am I doing?
If I die, wouldn't that create a domino effect? My parents would blame themselves. My father would start drinking again and who knows? I could be the cause of their separation. Damn. And what about my boyfriend? Poor Xander, it isn't his fault that I'm broken. It's nobody's fault really. These damned genetics put a curse on me.
Just then, I heard a car door slam. Fuck. I placed the gun back and relocked the safebox. Another time, perhaps. I rushed upstairs and ran into the living room. My parents were home from grocery shopping. I could see them from the window. They were happy, smiling. That was a rare sight in this family. When the front door opened, I hugged my mother.
"Elisabeth, what's wrong?" she asked, sounding worried.
I smiled pushing my face into her sweater. "I just missed you guys."
My father didn't look convinced, "We were only gone two hours,"
"A lot can happen in two hours" I said truthfully.
My parents looked at each other, smiled, and shook their heads. "Well since you're so full of energy, you can help us put the food away," my mother laughed.
I didn't mind. I really didn't. Something had to change. And the change had to start with me.
I helped my mother put the groceries away in the kitchen while my father went outside to grill some steaks. It felt semi normal. I wasn't happy, but I wished I were. Faking it helped a little.
Dinner was okay, and I actually managed to eat a few pieces of meat. But all I could think of was throwing everything up later that night when my parents were asleep in bed.
"Elisabeth, your mother and I were discussing you going back to public school this fall," my dad said randomly.
I froze. Oh god, no.
"W..why?" I almost whined.
Public school was part of the reason I became so depressed. I had no real friends beside Xander and he was going off to college. I'd be all alone if I went back.
"It's not healthy for you to stay at home everyday by yourself," mom said in between bites of steak.
I cringed.
"Please don't make me go back.." tears formed in my eyes.
My father's eyes grew hard "Elisabeth Ann, you are going back to Wilson this fall, the discussion ends now"
The room got quiet. And my mind went into a void.
"Fuck you guys. You don't love me. You're forcing to go back to the one place that makes me want to kill myself the most!" I stormed out of the dining room and went upstairs to my bedroom.
I slammed the door, hard. I was so angry. Hurt. Betrayed.
Why would they do this to me?
Didn't they understand?
Obviously my opinions didn't matter. Not to them anyway.
I texted Xander telling him I needed him to come pick me up.
Ten minutes went by with no answer.
I exhaled angrily.
Great, even he wasn't there for me in my moment of need.
Fuck.
I went over to my dresser and pull out "old rusty" my razor. I rolled up my sleeve to a patch of new canvas.And I painted. A picture that isn't exactly beautiful or anything. But it's a masterpiece containing all of my emotion. My pain. Suddenly the blood began coming out much faster than normal. I must have hit an artery.
Everything got fuzzy..and..black..
I woke up in a bright white room.
The hospital, of course.
"Elisabeth?!" my mothers voice registered in my mind. I glanced over at her. She'd been crying. I could tell by the redness of her eyes. Sigh.
She had her hands placed on my leg ever so gently.
"Hi mom," I said not looking at her.
I was still very pissed.
"I was so worried...why would you do this? You said you were getting better! Have you been taking your medications?!" Mom rambled on. I stopped listening after about fifteen minutes of her ranting about my safety. Blah blah blah. Bullshit.
"Mom, for the love of fuck, shut up" I narrowed my eyes at her.
She gasped. Obviously she doesn't remember that I have a very wide vocabulary.
"Don't you talk to me like that, I am your mother" she scolded me.
