Searching for Love

Chapter 12

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------         

(Flashback Sequence)

        I lived like that for a while. Me and my blades – my only friends. They showed me feelings I’ve never felt before. Release, a need for pain, happiness, desire. And yet, something was missing. There was a piece missing in the puzzle and cutting couldn’t fill it.

 

            My habits became more often; my battle scars increasing in number. I used to try and hide them, wearing long sleeves in the summer. But finally it came to a point where I no longer cared if the others at Westburry saw. They should see what they caused me, right?

 

            One evening, a knock came at my door. Nearly 9:30. I hoped to God that it wasn’t Kyle again. I opened the door and was surprised to see Michaela standing in my doorway. “Hey, can I come in?” she asked. “Sure,” I said. “But make it quick.”

 

            She walked inside and leaned against my bathroom door. “I just came by to apologize,” she said. “Excuse me?” I answered, taken off guard. “Yes. I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry I called you a defect a while back. I thought you already knew.”

 

I could see where this was going. “And I’m sorry to see that you’re so desperate for attention that you think self-harm will make people pity you. You poor, self-centered soul.”

 

            With that, my judgment went out the door and I took the perfect opportunity. I punched her right in the nose. Who knew I had such a good blow?

 

            At that she screamed and all hell broke loose causing the security guards to come running. They saw her bloody nose and my balled up fist and put two and two together. Next thing I knew, I was being dragged down to the main office. But the whole way there I couldn’t help but smile smugly. Oh, sweet justice.

 

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

            Weeks passed at school. I think I’m in love. Every day for the past month and a half, Brandon has walked me to class and picked me up from class. He even carries my books. How adorable. I’m a crazy romantic, I guess. Or maybe I’m just crazy about him.

            Yesterday he asked for my number and of course I gave it to him. We’ve been texting nonstop; even in class. At least it beat passing notes. I could live with this. In spite of my crazy life with Cindy and the news with my dad, I almost felt happy. I almost felt whole. Maybe I’m just a love-struck teenager. It probably is just my hormones jumping up and down and making me so damn crazy. But what if it’s not? What if this love is real?