The Lies We Told On Thursday Nights

28. Saturday: Blood, Water, and Innocence (Emery)

Hey everyone! Sorry for late update! I had the first half written like two weeks ago, but then got busy with school. And then hurt my wrist so I could only do a page of typing at a time. Nonetheless here is a chapter.

One thing

1. You  know the nice football player I named Jeremy, well, I have this thing where I don't like too many names starting with the same letter so I changed it to Alex, sorry in advance for confusion.

2. This chapter has a possibly triggering sh scene. I give a heads up before, and then in the middle I add my own hopefully helpful experience (you don't need to read, just kinda a rant into my life.) And then I tell you when the scene stops + give you a summary of what you missed if you skipped it. 

Emery

Saturday 1:15 pm

Here I was standing in the middle of Levi's room, no clue what was going on, and very very uncomfortable.

His room was large, not as large as I'd thought but still large. His bed was in the middle of the back wall, it was probably a king size.

At the end of the bed, there was a black plush couch/bench with blue pillows.

He had dressers and a shelf circling his room, full of shiny sports trophy. It was astonishing. His desk was cluttered, a few unopened textbooks, torn papers and comic books. Nothing that showed extensive studying.

There was another black leather chair in the corner. I placed my purse there, but I didn't sit yet.

I was glad I didn't have the chance to eat at the restaurant, but I still felt ill.

I eyed him, he was asleep. I grabbed my extra blue steel water bottle and poured the 9 salt packs I grabbed. Rumor has it salt can make you puke.

I wasn't going to drink it yet, but I had a feeling my mom will force me to eat dinner tonight.

Nonetheless, I had to use the restroom. I scanned the room and saw a door leading to an attached room.

Figuring that was the bathroom I walked in. The bathroom was shockingly neat. It was mostly painted black (the walls and cabinet) the floor tile. In the trimming of the room, I noticed white paint, like it was once painted white.

I shut the door and moved towards the toilet. When I was done doing my business, I looked beside me to find there was little toilet paper. I used the remainder but felt obliged to refill it.

Mostly everyone I know keeps toilet paper under the sink. I felt terrible for snooping, but my polite manners overtook me.

I eased open the lower cabinet.

There was a small black trashcan and a wooden box.

I was curious if the rolls were in the back so I glanced over.

(TALKS ABOUT SH- TRIGGER WARNING. AND FOLLOWING THIS BIT THERE IS AN AUTHORS NOTE THAT TALKS ABOUT MY EXPERIENCE, ALSO TW.)

Goddamit Levi. I stumbled back in a sort of shock.

I felt odd for a moment, uneasy in some sort of knowing disbelief. There were bloody rags and bloody bandaids. It was an endless pit of blood and tainted innocence.

The trash served as some abstract art, white sheets stained different shades of red. I could see the cold red beneath the rags which were too bright to be safe.

I found myself slightly angry, annoyed even. I wasn't sure what about this situation seemed unreasonably annoying.

Was I annoyed at him for not asking for help? Was I annoyed at him for doing it? Was I annoyed at him for not telling me? Was I annoyed at him just because I didn't think it was necessary, I mean, I never self-harm since it's easy to get caught and honestly prevents you from doing a lot of things.