A Broken Mind Can't Be Fixed

Chapter 3

Two weeks go by, and as much as I hate to say it, I'm actually getting used to Larry living in my house. I kind of like it too. He keeps Mom away when she's drunk. I no longer have to deal with her random outbursts and violent fits. Larry knows how to keep her shit together.

Lydia and I have gotten pretty close. I'm supposed to hang out with her after school this Friday, which is tomorrow. I don't even know what we'll do, but I'm excited. I think I finally found that one friend.

I miss Violet.

I haven't had a dream about her in two weeks. That's too fucking long for me. I miss her so much. I want to tell her about Larry and Lydia and how happy I am. If only she was fucking here.

I feel my heart rip open and tear apart all of the stiches Lydia carefully placed there. I rush to my hidden blades and pull them out, eager to forget about the pain she keeps trying to take away. She can't fix me.

Fuck Lydia. I only think of Violet as the blade cuts into my healing wrist.

The blood drizzles out slowly. It's not enough to satisfy me. I'm suddenly slicing my arms, mutilating myself in a way I never have before. The blood pours onto my ragged jeans and I cry. Nothing will be able to hide the hideous marks I've cut into my arms.

I open my sock drawer and pull out the bag that's been hidden there for months. The white powder almost looks like snow. Or really bad dandruff.

The bag of cocaine feels like it's burning the flesh right off my skin. I quickly throw it back into my drawer. I'm disgusted by what I've become.

I curl up in a ball on my uncomfortable bedroom floor and cry myself to sleep.

-

The next morning I wake up feeling like I have a hangover. I glance at my arms to see if last night was only a dream, but I find what I fear; nasty, jagged lines that litter my arms. I think this is the first time I've actually regretted cutting. I guess it means I'm getting better. 

There is no way in hell I'll be able to hide these from Lydia.

I think about ditching school today. Afterall, it is Friday. We won't be doing much.

But I told Lydia I would hang out after school. The cuts on my arm haven't changed the fact that I really want to see her.

I decide to go to school a little late.

I grab my bookbag and eat a small breakfast. Before I leave, I say bye to Larry, who's cooking eggs for my mom. He smiles at me and tells me to have a good day at school.

For some reason, I have trouble believing he really killed his family.

-

I go to the beach. Now the beach, in my case atleast, is not a place where tons of people show up to build sandcastles and get a nice tan. The beach is my safe haven. I come here when I'm feeling more depressed than usual and look out at the ocean. The crashing of the waves soothe me and I feel like nothing matters, not even the douchebags at school.

I lay back on the warm sand and fall asleep.

-

Violet's face comes into view. I haven't seen her in awhile.

"Tate."

She smiles at me, but I can sense something's different.

"What's wrong?" I ask, afraid of her answer.

I see her bottom lip tremble and then she turns away.

"Nothing. I've just been finding some stuff out. Stuff about you. But it's okay. It can't be true." I stand there awkwardly, unsure what she's rambling on about. She stops abruptly.