Past or Future

Cuts- tw

Instead of continuing my failed attempts at moving, I slowly drift to sleep with the thought of my brother raping me playing over and over in my head.
*buzz buzz buzzzzz* *buzz buzz buzzzzz*

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I wake up to the sunlight beaming in my face. I feel the pain of the soon to be scars he left on my body. My head is throbbing, each move, each thought, making it worse by the second. I try to move my arm and finally I succeed. I raise my hand to my pulsating temples and rub with hopes of relief. When that doesn't work, I slowly stand up from my bed and head for the bathroom. A tornado of pain encapulates me and I fall to the ground. Unable to move, I stay there, wishing everything will just disappear. I gather my strength and stand up once again. Now that my body has adjusted to the pain, I am able to make my way to the bathroom. Once inside, I am met with a bruised and swollen face surrounded by little cuts and marks all over my body. I touch a cut on my head and wince at the pain that resides there. I start a shower, making the water as hot as it could possibly get. I look in the mirror one last time and see my blurred figure. Even through the fog, I can see his marks. I can see the cuts, the bruises, the pain. An overwhelming feeling I've felt so many times before raises up throughout my body. My skin is tingling and my body is shaking. I feel my knees giving out and my breath thinning out as I begin to freak out. I rush out the bathroom and to my bedroom window. I yank it open, hoping the cold October air will wash away everything I was feeling. The wind hits me and my knees give out. It no longer helps. Every emotion is intensified. I feel like I've been attacked by a million ants that are crawling all over me. I begin to scratch my skin, disregarding the fact that I am irritating the cuts he left. My head is spinning and I can't process anything around me. I close my eyes, trying my best not to pass out. Then, as if on cue, my nail digs into a cut on my leg. I open my eyes at the pain that rushes to me. My head stops spinning and the tingling vanishes. It is at this point that I know what I have to do.

I stand up and practically run to my drawer. I open it and empty everything out until I get to what I am looking for. Finally, after everything is scattered on the floor, I see it. I take out the case and slowly open its forgotten clasps. The case creeks open and I am met with the past I thought would be forgotten so long ago. I take out a package and open it up, retrieving a new and clean blade. Jacob's words appear in my mind as I touch the blade to the skin of my wrist. I hesitate at first, thinking of everything I had done to break the habit. I hear Jacob's voice again as I replay our conversation in the park.

"I use to cut." I whisper to him.
He looks confused before he fully understands what I meant. "Why?" He whispers back.
"I was going through a lot. It was my way of staying in control while everything around me was chaotic." I lean further into him and allow him to wrap his arm around me.
"You don't have to do that anymore. Not with me." He pulls me closer to him, holding me tighter than he ever has before.

"You don't have to do that anymore." I continue to replay these words in my mind. I do have to do this. It's the only way I can move on. It's the only chance I have to forget everything for just five minutes. It's the only way I can be in control. I feel something drip on my leg. I look down and see blood from my now cut wrist. A searing pain goes through my arm and to the rest of my body. I take comfort in this, letting all the events and stress of the past flow out of me like a river. The blood stops dripping and I immediately miss the feeling. I take the blade and dig into my skin once again. I feel such pleasure from it that I continue until both my wrists are covered in bloody cuts. I lean against my dresser, letting the pain cleanse me. I see a drop of blood fall to the floor and finally decide to go take the shower I've had running for about thirty minutes. I repack my case and place it in my bag instead of its previous home inside my drawer. I clean up the mess I made and go to the bathroom. The mirrors fog has disappeared and I can clearly see myself again, this time with cuts all over my wrists as well. I step into the shower and wash him away, or at least try to. I wash my hair and clean my cuts before stepping out and drying off. I put on some clothes and change my sheets. Once the bed is made, I lay down and drift off to sleep with the cuts on my wrists starring back at me.