Never Say A Word.

Chapter 6

Alright so I've learned from my mistakes, I asked for five comments, and I got five comments....from the sane fan. I said I like being difficult, she obviously took that as a challeng. Sooo at the end of this chapter I'll give you my requirements for the next chapter. I'm sorry it wasn't very quick but I just got a new phone cause my other one died! :-( But don't worry, its in a better place, and it SUCKED compared to this phone! Alright I guess it time for me to start. And P.s. I'm really starting to get irritated with all the people who read but don't comment, or even vote!

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-Tiffany ;-x

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I crept through the front door of my house, cocking my head to the side, listening intensely for a noise, a breath, a soft pitter patter of sneaky feet....Nothing. You know when your house is so eerily quiet that you can hear the electric screams from the power sizziling through the wires? It was like that, but so loud that it was deafening, it filled my ears, scrapping at the inside if my head, pealing layers away. I stepped into the living room, not looking out for glass shards, the just of the mess was already cleaned, all except the blood and wine stains, and small shard that had embedded themselves into the crevasses of the light hard wood floors.

I did a quick sweep of the house, making sure I was truly alone. I hated this feeling of abandonment, like I was loosing their attention. I knew this wasn't healthy, I shouldn't want this kind of attention, but I craved it. This is so wrong! I want the pain, the interaction. I have some sort of twisted addiction, I want the pain, the wounds, the memories and the thrill. When my heart races, and adrenaline thickly laces my blood, My eyes narrow in on my target, my only focus, and my body coils like a tightly wound spring. I am so twisted and sick. I'm disgusted with everything about me. Repulsing.

I ran up to my room, feeling so many emotions that I couldn't describe, it was happening again and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I raced into my bathroom and locked the door behind me. I threw things out of the draws and cabinets, searching for something that had been burried down on the bottom of everything for over two years now. I sighed in releif as I caught sight on the gleaming metal. My hand shook with anticipation, two years ago, I swore that it would never come to this again, that it would be the last time. But I never bought myself to throw away the blade that helped me throughout my teenage years. My heart was racing as I slowly brought the blade down on my wrist, dragging its wicked sharp blade own on my paper like skin. A scarlet line instantly formed over the cut, forming into a thick line, before spilling over. I watched in awe before I felt the endorphins rush threw my vein, like a natural high. This time when I brought the blade to my skin, my hand didn't shake, and I brought it down hard and quick, slashing my skin over and over before the bloodlust was gone. I rested my back against my sink and watched the blood flow from body, spilling onto the floor and coloring my world red. I felt feel, I could think again there isn't any pressure building up inside me. I was okay, I'm not sure why I quite, how could something that helps me so much be called self harm? My head felt light and feathery and I floating on a red satin cloud. I closed my eyes and felt my body shiver in pure relief. This is perfect, better than any drug induced high, any alcoholic daze.

This is my release.

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My parents were home and insisted on having a family dinner, which was completely my creation, Baked parmesan chicken, roasted vegetables in a liquid smoke sause and a bottle of wine for them. I sat idily fidiling with the hem of my shirt, as we sat in silence, picking at the leftover vegetables that sat coldly on our plates. I refused to meet their gaze even though I could feel it fall heavy on my shoulders. I picked up my fork and pushed all my trimming around on my fork. I lifted my grade for a quick second, and met my mothers gaze...er glare. My fork fell from my limp fingers, clattering loudly against the china, disruption the silence. "Fucking idiot..." My father muttered not looking up from his plate. I blushed and bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted salty, metallic blood to calm myself. I silently excused myself and washed my dish before heading up to my room for a nice scorching hot shower. I stripped of my bra and t- shirt and wiggled out of my skinny jeans. Hot stream poured out from over the shower door, I stepped in and hot water splattered on my legs, giving the rest of my body chills.The water stung my fresh cuts, washing the dried blood away, spiriling down the drain, as if it were no more important then soap sudds. I carefully washed my stomach, skillfully evading my broken ribs, which in time will heal up nicely. They were still black and blue now, my entire torso and halfway down my legs were also. I looked fucked up. I scrubbed my body clean and shaved under my arms and legs so I was porcelain smooth again. My long blonde hair felt clean again, not like a rats nest. I sighed and shut the water off, relishing in the warmth that the water left behind. Stepping into a warm fluffy towel I dried of and wrapped it around my hair and jumped into bed, not bothering with clothes. Tomorrow would be the start of a new week, a new school week, and school took energy. Some I didn't have right now. I was dead tired, I don't care if its only..... 7 o'clock. I cuddled into my pillow, and sighed, tears leaking everywhere, muffled sobs into my pillow. Why was everything so screwed up? Why me? I hate to sound like the pity party hostess but no one knows what I go, they don't know how badly I wish I could scream. They don't know me.