The boy looked at her arms. Then at her. Then back at her arms.
He looked up into her eyes. Irene took in a sharp breath. He had the most beautiful eyes. It wasn't the hazel colour or the almond shape of his eyes that made them so beautiful. His eyes told a tale. His eyes spoke the most poetic of words.
"You didn't have to do that"
"I know" Irene smiled "But I couldn't just let them beat you up you know?"
"I wasn't talking about that" he said, turning away.
Irene put her hand on his shoulder.
"Sometimes it helps to share the pain"
He turned around to face her once again. He surveyed his saviour. She was quite beautiful. Why would this amazing creature hurt herself?
"What's your name?" She asked.
"Christopher"
"Nice to meet you Christopher"
"Nice to meet you too Irene"
Irene looked at the boy. Messy brown hair. Angelic hazel eyes. Lips which curled into the most shy smile.
He wouldn't have been most girls definition of 'gorgeous'. But to Irene, this boy looked perfect.
"Care to explain what was going on?"
He shrugged.
"Not a big deal. Just got into a brawl with a couple guys from my school. Happens."
Irene knew he was lying. His eyes said far more than he ever could. But she didn't pursue the topic.
"So..........." he said
Irene smiled. "So?"
"You're an artist too?" He asked, his voice trembling.
Irene looked down, not able to meet the boys eyes.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I should go. It's getting late and my parents will start to worry."
Irene stepped away from Christopher. She looked into his eyes one last time before turning away.
"No, wait!" He said, grabbing her wrist.
Irene cringed.
He let go, his eyes apologetic.
"Please. Wait."
"I'm sorry. I've got to go."
"Will I see you again Irene?"
"Artists have a way of finding each other."
And with that, she turned around and walked out of the alley.
When she reached home, that's when it hit. She hadn't been accepted into the Drama company. Anger and sadness surged through her like a monster awakening after a long slumber.
Meeting Christopher had tamed this monster. But now, there was nothing to cage this beast.
She walked straight up to her room, ignoring her parents. She threw herself on the bed and started sobbing.
She dug her nails into her hands, and bit her lip so hard it began to bleed.
When you've worked so hard for something, and you end up not succeeding, that's the worst type of failure. You second guess yourself. Maybe you aren't as good as you thought you were. Maybe, you're pathetic at whatever you thought you were actually good at. Maybe you've been living an illusion.
She got up, her eyes still fluttering. She walked towards her drawer where she stored her drug. Her blades.
She greeted the blade like an old friend. She caressed her skin with the sharp, cold piece of metal. Such a deceiving thing. It so lovingly touches you, but ends up hurting you.
She grew hypnotised, watching the Crimson liquid flow down her arm. She smiled at her latest artwork.
Then she slumped against the bathroom wall. And she just sat there, in silence. And listened to the water drip into the sink. A different side of her had taken over now. It was a different person in her body. Different thoughts flowed through her head.
None of us are just one person. We're multiple people, stuck inside one body. Most of us know who we are though. Know how to find ourself among the crowd of people inside us. Know how to control which person comes out when.
But sometimes, we lose control. We lose ourselves in the crowd. And a new person emerges through. A new addition to the group. Like a Phoenix rising from its ashes, this person rises. But before we realise it, it's too late. We've become someone else. And usually, it's not a person we want to be.
Irene however, was already familiar with her Phoenix. In fact, she'd made peace with it. In her case however, she never had to lose herself to rise like the Phoenix. She already was the Phoenix.
She just put on different masks at different times and seemed normal.
She got up and washed her hands off mechanically. This had become a routine. She thought of Christopher, and those eyes of his. She laughed. Hysterically. Who thought of a boy they had just met while trying to slit their wrists open?
She walked downstairs to join her family for dinner. Time for another mask to come on.
She bounded down the stairs, smiling.
"Hey guys. What's for dinner?"
