I Am Not Okay With This (Me Either)

Ink Soaked Skin

⚠️self harm tw⚠️

~

Leo woke up to her alarm blaring in her ear, having fallen asleep with her phone next to her. Her alarm was set earlier on this particular day —knowing she'd be skateboarding to school— at 6 o' clock, to be exact.

She pulled herself out of bed and showered quickly, even though she usually showers at night. She tied her soaked hair up on top of her head into a messy bun. In her underwear, Leo walked back into her bedroom. She opened the top drawer of her dresser to find her pack of blades.

Compacted into a small box, she removed one. God, it fit so perfectly between her thumb and forefinger. She brought it to her wrist and placed the edge against her skin. Before she dug the razor in and across all the way, she stopped.

Leo started crying.

She dropped the razor and fell to the floor; deep breaths turning into wheezing, sobs racked her body as she lied on the floor and shook.

After composing herself, she sat against the wall, in a bra and panties, and thought to herself.

I need to get my shit together. A place where I can just vent because i clearly don't currently have anyone I could vent to. A diary? No, that ended badly with Sydney's and the whole homecoming situation. I could actually-

She wiped her tears and got up to grab a bandaid and a pen. Leo sat on her bed and put the bandaid over the small cut. She smiled.

It was a mickey mouse bandaid.

She went back to what she was doing. She took her hair out to let it air dry. Sitting with her left leg crossed over her thigh, she began to write at the top of her calf, moving down gradually.

Dear diary.

Well, I guess this isn't a diary. It's my leg. Big difference. It's my leg, so I'll call it a diary if I fucking want to. Okay, that was a bit aggressive, I'll admit. I can wash this off after. So no issues like Sydney had. This way, I guess I can get it all out and not have anyone hold it against me. I guess I'm just frustrated. Now Sydney doesn't like me, and Stanley probably hates me too, and Dina probably thinks I'm weird. I wish people liked me without me having to try so hard. Because then

"Fuck; I'm going to have to write smaller," she said, 3/4's of her leg completely filled from calf to ankle. The rest, she was unable to reach.

then maybe I wouldn't be so anxious all the time. And I wouldn't have to bother worrying about people liking me because they just would. I wonder if I'd be less sad.

She began to write on her wrist, avoiding the bandaid.

What would it take for me to be happy? It seems like I'm sad all the fucking time. Well, except when I'm with Stanley. But I guess now I'm not with Stanley. That kinda makes me sad. When he told me I frustrate him, it made me feel like shit. I don't wanna be this burden that people have to deal with. I just feel bad. Maybe I shouldn't, though. I didn't do anything wrong last night. Did I? Okay, maybe writing this out didn't help. Shit, I have to get ready.

She capped the pen and stood to look in the mirror. It looked kind of funny, the writing strewn across her leg and wrist. Leo ignored it and went into her closet.

"Ugh, if I want to make it to school on time, I won't have time to wipe this off. Fuck me. Okay, pants it is."

She put on ripped jeans and a black spaghetti strap, arms covered by her color block corduroy jacket. Leo didn't actually have a favorite color, which is why she liked color block so much. She didn't have to choose, and she could have red, yellow, green and blue all in one.

Leo cuffed her pants and laced her shoe laces around the ankle, because if she tied them regular it was too long and she would trip. She ran a brush through her hair, grabbed her backpack, phone and skateboard, then left.