Cry Until You Bleed

1- Parties

This story is part of a series! All stories are spin-offs of each other and do not need to be read in order but may have some spoilers in the stories that come before them. Here's the order:

1- Lie Until You Laugh- Sienna Mast (Complete)

2- Laugh Until You Cry- Stella Wayne (Complete)

3- Cry Until You Bleed- Ana Shaw (Complete)

4- Bleed Until You Heal- Jo Mast (Complete)

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It has been 745 days since I have attempted suicide.

I write down the repetitive sentence in my journal and then close it again, sitting it on my dresser. Well, the sentence isn't repeating word for word in my journal because the number of days changes one by one. And in my notebook, line by line, the number grows bigger but the sentence stays the same.

I'm proud of myself. Go me.

I throw my hair into a messy bun and then trot down the stairs of the large house wearing the only dress that I own. It's black in hopes of letting me sink into the background of this party but my mother told me that I had to wear a dress to this thing that I'm going to, which is very unfortunate because dresses really aren't my thing. It's not even a cute black dress- it's ugly and the fabric is weird and lacy with off-the-shoulder sleeves. But it's not an attractive and alluring off-the-shoulder kind of way, it's an I-bought-this-dress-on-sale-at-Goodwill kind of way. Most of the time, Goodwill doesn't fail me but this dress isn't actually the worst thing I've gotten there. The shoes- black flats with gray bows on the tops- probably are worse than the dress. They look like the shoes that a girl wears to a middle school dance.

However, I've never been a big fan of fashion so my ugly velvety lace dress and awkward bow flats aren't really a concern for me. I'm going to my graduation party so I guess I'll kind of be the center of attention there and everybody will notice my ugly dress but I'd like not to think of that because being the center of attention is something that makes my skin crawl. I'm sure that they'll just be blown away by the fact that I'm even wearing a dress in the first place.

Luckily, my parents recently let me get my own driver's license so I don't need to get a ride over to the party, which is at this hotel near downtown which is even worse. Why my parents demanded on having a fancy party for only graduating high school is beyond me. Sure, graduating high school is a cool achievement but it's not hotel-banquet-lacy-dress type of thing. When my brother graduated high school, we went out to dinner and then he went out with some friends but there definitely was no big banquet party with dresses and fancy clothes.

I got my license and a car to go with it as a gift. It was a "Congrats! You haven't tried to kill yourself in over two years!" present. I look of it more as an anniversary of the last time so it's not really an accomplishment to me. It's more of a sad remembrance type of thing for me. The same way that people remember 9/11. I don't like to think of it but my dad just loves to always remind me "how far I've come" and "how happy/healthy I look now". Well, I've barely gotten any happier, I've just learned how to cover up my emotions like the layers of a ten tiered cake. My tenth layer is incredibly happy. I am a professional happy person for the people around me.

However, my first layer- the bottom one that nobody ever gets to taste- has not changed since I was fifteen (three years ago) and I don't think that it'll change for a while. I just cover that dark crap up though, and I don't think about it at all but it's there.

When I arrive at the party, it's still pretty early because Penn wanted me to get here early, so I park in the parking lot and grab my small purse from the passenger seat