Loathe

read all about it

"You've got the words to change a nation
But you're biting your tongue
You've spent a life time stuck in silence
Afraid you'll say something wrong
If no one ever hears it how we gonna learn your song?"
-'Read all about it' by Emeli Sande

        Two...two months, yes? I believe it's been two months since I've been clean. I haven't taken the knife out of the drawer in a long time, due to the fear of facing the cold, sharp pain of the blade once more. I couldn't take the fact that I liked it, and it was bothering me   I did it. Did he ever worry about me? Not being sure, I would cry myself to sleep, covering my ears with my black beanie on my head, lying in bed in skinny jeans and a black t-shirt. My body was thin, and my ribs slightly showed, because I tended to gag myself after each meal. I wanted to be perfect, but no matter what I do, I'm never perfect. So what was I doing wrong?

        Listening to the gentle knock on my door, I lifted my head up from my knotted hands, and stared at the opening door, only to see his face peek in. Bill. It was Bill who came in to check on me, and I only smiled a bit before looking back down to my hands. We were best friends, and usually he cared about no one but lately he's been closer to me than ever. We were almost like brothers now. I chuckled a bit at the thought of being genetically bonded with him, which was a wonderful thought. In all honesty, Ithink I kind of like him, but I can't date him because I'm unsure if he was gay or not. I was. That's why all the kids call me faggot at school.

        Bill slowly stepped in and giggled a bit, "Hey, isn't there school today, bro? I thought you were going..wait...don't tell me you've been-

        I cut him off with a glare, and hissed a bit in my words, "No. I'm perfectly fine. I just don't want to go back to school to be called a faggot again."        

        He bit back a reply and turned, closing the door. I could've sworn I saw a small blush on his face, but instead I ignored it and walked over to the door, jumping off the edge of my bed of where I had been sitting. I sighed, closing it shut all the way until I heard the gentle click, and locked it. Once I turned, I looked at my open window, watching as the curtains waved fro the wind blowing in. By now, I had put on a poker face, because I was so numb from all the pain and agony I've been put through. As gently as I could, I laid down on my bed, and curled up a bit on top of the black sheets. On my covers was a large, red spade which symbolized my name. Ace. I held back tears that were forcefully trying to leak from my eyes. Squeezing my eyes shut, I grit my teeth, and curled up, tensing my muscles. I couldn't take it anymore. I..had.. to quit this. I'm no longer clean.

        Growling, I forced myself out of bed, stumbling out of it and nearly tripping down onto my face. I jerked the drawer opened and rummaged through it, listening to the ruffling of the stuff being knocked around in the drawer until I found a small, black lump. It was my large, hunting knife. I sighed a word of relief and fell onto my ass, closing my eyes and feeling the cool, thin blade rip into my skin. I was tarnishing my non-perfect existence. I felt happy and relieved as the blood dribbled down my arm, spilling onto my white carpet, leaving me to silently curse under my breath. That would take a lot of time trying to wash out. I wonder if Bill went to school today.. it seems like he might've stayed home. You see, we live together in an apartment. Our parents kicked us out and left us to live on our own, so we came together and bought a small apartment and both got jobs.

        I froze once I heard a knock on my door. It was a very light knock, as if the person was nervous, and I sniffled a bit before trying to let out a word, "Y-y..e.s..?" I murmured, my voice staggered by the whimpering and sobbing. Immediately, the door was banged against, and somehow the lock was undone, and before I knew it, a man held his arms around me and cried into me, whispering a bunch of sweet nothings. A pink hue flourished onto my cheeks, making me look down at the carpet. Once the boy's eyes traveled to my new cuts, he broke out into sobs and held me closer.

        Bill looked at me, "Ace, please...why?" He lifted his right hand to wipe away tears from him eyes and took his jacket sleeve, slowly dabbing my eyes and wiping the tears away, then leaned in and did something I never thought he would. He kissed me. He. Kissed. Me. What?

        I leaned back and put my hand on my fresh cuts, slowly looking into his eyes which were leaking a few tears. I smiled sympathetically and leaned in, pressing my firm lips to his soft ones. He was taken by surprise, but soon his lips matched the rhythm of mine, and I began to lick his bottom lip. I was accepted. Slowly, I put my tongue inside of his mouth and explored, learning every bit of his mouth, loving each taste his mouth brought. Pulling away, we were both panting and I giggled, "I love how we just had a make-out session and I'm sitting here bleeding my arm out."

        Bill's eyes were slightly stained with tears after his quiet, but endless sobs. Looking at me, he gently bit his bottom lip in the cutest way I'd ever seen, and leaned it, kissing the cuts and grabbing my unscathed arm. He led me quietly to the bathroom, took out the poroxide, and slwoly dabbed the cuts. A hiss escaped from my lips and I sneered, trying to lean back as he tugged me closer, cleaning the new wounds, "You can't keep doing this to yourself." He looked at me with a glare, even though his face was tear-stained from all the crying. My bottom lip quivered when he did that, making me fearful he would forever hate me for this, "I don't hate you." It was as if he had read my mind, "I just.." Pausing, he breathed out, "...nothing..."

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So, I was a bit lazy to continue my other stories, but I was greatly inspired to start this. I think it'll be a hit. Please do tell me what you think and share to other people! Also! It's not as dark as you think!