Volume VI: And Introducing Harley Morrow As - Herself

40. Helps Me to Live

        Things were stable. Or as stable as could be expected. My life was divided yet united at the same time. I worked at the bar with Lucid. I would drop by Pandora’s and help with the babies. If they were overly exhausted, I’d spend the night on the couch. And when they were really desperate for time off, I’d make Lucid come over with me. They warmed up to him. He was their street boss, and him and me were kind of...well...close. He got a strict talking-to from Layne and Serkis about business and another one about me.

        I got very stupid one day and tried to kill myself. I didn’t try hard, being I’m still here. But I sat and raked a blade over the vein enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. Enough to make a scar. I didn’t understand it until later, why I did it, why it mattered. I wanted to know my limits. It’s explained simply: you do it twice. Once when nobody would expect it, when you have plans the next day, where they’d know immediately. And once when nobody’s around to stop you and you’re convinced that nobody cares. The principle is seeing how close you come either way. You’ll get closer alone. Because the other way you’d be breaking plans with people. They’d hate you instead of mourn you. And what’s the point if they won’t miss you, right? We all secretly want to be missed.

        I did it so I’d always know how close or far I’d been. I’d have the line on my wrist to remind me. I spent hours running my fingers over it. To know, to remember.

        This is who I am. This is how much I’ve hurt.

        Am I asking to be saved? No. Nobody can save me - but me. No, this isn’t about being saved. It’s about being lost.

        Why did I try to kill myself? Depression, school, work, some guy, the voice in my head told me to? Note: that “voice” is your conscience. Deal with it. So why did I try?

        I was curious. And I danced with Death and kept the line we danced on. I wanted to know my limits in life. Why?

        Does a lawyer defend someone without background information?

        This was my background to living. After enough time passed and I couldn’t remember why I really did it, when only the line remained, I could move on. It’s funny - things that seem important enough to die over...fade to black just like everything else.

        Trying to explain this to people who can’t see it as I do could get me committed. I did my best to put it into words, and even then I might be crazy.

        When you do something stupid like that and live, it ticks people off. They’ve been trying like all hell to help; an attempt is a slap in the face to them. It’s easier to sit and take the lecture - after all, I brought this upon myself.

        That was off-topic, but it is a relevant event of my life. It provided a foundation for later growth. Because of it, I knew when to fight and when to run. That doesn’t mean that I always did, but I knew when I should. Useful pieces of information don’t do much for you when not put to use.

        Here is to proof of my madness - skin deep.

        Understand - there’s a big difference between wanting to die and knowing one’s limits. This I explained to the family. Repeatedly. They believed me but felt better hearing it. And I’d do whatever it took to set them at ease.

        We all go a little crazy - that was my defense for my sudden eccentricity. I went out, got piercings and tattoos, and got older. It was part of the cycle.

        I became Lucidius’ other. He ran the gang and I was at his side. I can’t understand how it happened, if it was love or not; we just were. I think we were mostly beneficial to each other; I ran the bar under Pandora and when he wasn’t working, he was at the tattoo shop. He really loved that place. I liked it as well, it was a surviving piece of history - pictures of the past owners were still all over the place. Legends committed to film. Forever. Further proof of the stories being real.