Beyond Our Lies

o n e

I can't do this right now.

I politely excused myself from the conversation and rushed out of the room and to my bathroom. The disgruntled stares from the guests simply turned into blurry faces as everything began to rush to me.

Somehow, I actually made it to my bathroom. Locking it, I slid down the door and broke down. My salty tears could be tasted as I covered my mouth to block out any noise I made. We can't have the guests seeing how fucked up my parent's daughter is now can we?

I moved from my position and started digging through my drawers. Where is it? Why the fuck can't I find it?

I sink back onto the floor and grip my pin straight hair, pulling it so harshly some dark brown locks can be seen across my palms. My pain become more than emotional as I pull my hair and dig my nude acrylic nails into the skin of my thigh.

But it isn't enough.

Suddenly, I remember where I put it. I look under the sink and pull out a seemingly innocent box. Opening it, I sighed gratefully and pulled it out.

Just staring at the shiny silver blade makes all sounds of the party disappear. Every clink of glass, every heel clicking across the floor, every conversation, just turns into a piercing ring. The deafening ring makes the blade substantially more appealing.

This can distract me. Just for a little while. Just one more time. After this, I won't use it again.

I deserve this break after so long. I deserve this feeling. Any feeling.

A devilish smile crept up on my plump lips as I pressed the knife into the pad of my thumb, just to remind myself of how sharp it is.

The pain is barely felt as everything is still a blur, everything is still numb. I don't want to be numb. I need this pain- the physical pain.

I grabbed the handle of the knife and slid my sleeve up. I guided the point of my short livid escape to the inside of my wrist.

I pressed the knife into my skin, just to remind myself of how sharp it is.

Everything's starting to slow down. The ringing followed with my inner demons cheering me on are still there, but they're quieting down. Almost as if i'm the star of the movie they're devoted to, needing to keep their sounds faint or else they can't watch what will occur next.

I lift it and stare at my wrist. Some of my faded scars can still be seen. I haven't cut for a while as I was trying to keep clean but I can't think of a more perfect time to get an escape. I move the knife back onto my wrist and p-

Banging on the door causes me to drop my knife, it's clinking disrupting the deafening sounds in my head.

"What was all that about, Juniper? Pushing our guests? Not being welcoming?" Her voiced boomed through the bathroom despite the door being locked shut. I could hear the aggravation in her voice as it kept raising with each question.

Who the fuck said I pushed them?

How much of an attention seeker do you have to be to say the host's 17 year old daughter pushed you?

Sliding my sleeve back down, I then quickly put the knife back into its box and looked in the mirror. I wiped the remaining tears off my cheeks and under my eyes. My frizzled hair is desperately needing to be fixed so I grabbed my brush and returned it to its previous state.

All the while i'm trying to make it seem like my demons weren't going to get front row seats to my feud against myself, my mother's aggravated voice could still be heard.