I Never Told You What I Do For A Living {Frerard}

Process makes Progress

I never told you what I do for a living

I came back to my senses, ripping into my already broken-skinned bottom lip, tearing off some skin and almost immediately ran my tongue over the split, smirking to myself as I had the metallic taste in my mouth and my lip started to sting. I kept biting down on my lip, the stinging sensations intensifying and taking over my already preoccupied mind.

If I continued this way, I knew that I was going to fuck it all up for myself. I didn't want to let myself slip up, I didn't want to become a failure once more, not before I got to the final. I had to pay attention to my motives, to my excuses and most importantly to my clean-up. I guess, what I did always had consequences to it and the consequences were almost always shitty, boring or annoying and this consequence was not an exception to that dumb rule.

The blood was gone and down the sink by now, the blood off of my hands and arms anyway and my skin had taken on another red colour, the scalding hot water that was gushing directly onto my wrists were red, burning. I watched the water flow for a few seconds more, mesmerised by fluidity of the water and the calm that came over me, bringing me down from the excitement and madness I had gone through twenty-six minutes prior to the hand washing.

I could still smell the blood, I could feel it drying upon my face, I could tell that my clothes and hair was covered in blood. Everything was blood with me, blood blood blood. I was covered in it at least once a week, I got covered in my own blood when I was younger, when I was in secondary school, I was attracted to something that made me get covered in blood.

Whether it be mine or someone else's.

I turn the tap off within three and a half turns, watching the water stopping and dripping every second, slowing down to three seconds, then every ten seconds as it always had done before. I turned my back from the sink and started up the shower, turning the knob to the right almost all the way so I knew it would be boiling like the sink water, to burn the rest of my body, not just my hands and wrists.

I tugged on my tie gently, finding myself let my teeth sink back down into my split bottom lip as my azure-blue, blood stained tie fell to the floor soundlessly, my hands going back up to my neck to undo the buttons, slowly, one by one until the shirt followed the path of the tie, soon my underwear and trousers following my other clothing items, my socks and battered black converse coming off until I was stood there, naked and staring at the water streaming and flowing down the drain.

I got in and instinctively put my back towards the shower head and sat down, letting the water pelt against my back and burn me enough to keep me alert. I didn't want to move from my position, I was happy here, I was somewhat safer here than... Out there, with mankind, I was alone in my own little world.

People always questioned my motives, they were always unsure about me, whether it be the way I dressed, my hair or how I was always wanting to be alone. They found something to pick up and question about me, always giving me a hard time about my problematic life, they wanted me to be louder, nicer, to live a little, for me to live up to their standards.

When I wanted something, I never got it, I suffered in silence, I had to keep quiet about what I wanted, I knew what would happen to me or my brothers if I spoke up, if I said I wanted something or for something to stop. I couldn't even protect my little brothers, I had to keep quiet to protect them, yet that form of protection wasn't ever guaranteed for them, there wasn't a way to protect them.

But those people that wanted me to 'live my life', 'do something with myself' or to 'go do something exciting' didn't realise I didn't want to do any of those things that they wanted me to do, I didn't want to be the person that they wanted me to be, what they begged me to be. There were a few things I tried out on the sly without anyone knowing and now they became an addiction for me.

I sighed once, drawing my knees in closer to my chest and watched the streams of water flow past me and down the drain, tinted red from the blood that was being showered off of me. I didn't want to move, I felt comfortable and it was only going to go down hill from there. I didn't want to become cold, I didn't want to go out, I didn't want to interact with people, I didn't want to exist.

I decided it would be best for me to stand up and go about my business in the shower before the hot water ran out, so I gathered up all of my energy and pushed myself off of the bottom of the shower floor and put my hands into my hair, playing around with the dark, wet strands as I let the water pelt against my front for a few minutes before I really got the motivation to actually start washing my hair and body and rid myself of this dried up blood.

As soon as I step out of the warm confinements of the shower I gasped, the cold attacking my body from head to toe, freezing every inch of me. I pulled the towel off of the radiator and wrapped that around my waist, struggling to tuck the end in to keep it up, giving up after a few seconds and just clutched onto it as I grabbed another towel and threw it over my head and shoulders before shuffling back into my room.

And the whole process starts again.