Blaze;
When you’re a teenager, mentally bruised and in love, your logic of direction is uncertain but your mind that is intoxicated with overwhelming judgments and emotions doesn’t detect that. All the exertion you put in your early years, crafting walls and isolating yourself, goes to waste. You allow your heat to feel even if doubts weigh down on your shoulders. You gain a trust for someone who you never believed would mean so much to you. You become this open book, the scribbles that ran across the crinkled papers transformer into something readable. You secrets are no longer disguised, they decorate your damaged skin and release from your quivering lips. When everything comes to place and a depiction fills your head, you gather how gloomy your lover’s path will become if you stay with them. You comprehend that you’re poison to the heart so you leave. You feel empty, remorseful and just wished you never fell for a gorgeous boy who didn’t deserve to take care of the monster you were meant to be.
When I was sixteen, I assumed that the world was a tacky horror movie and I was that one character that knew what they were doing but no one took interest in their ideas. Now, nineteen and currently in the happiest state I could wish for, I understand that everyone has their own hell, their own limits and their own coping mechanisms. It took a while to process that indication, mainly because it’s human nature to believe your patterns are suitable for your daily life. My stubborn mind was deluded by facts I had created for myself while being under the influence. I allegedly concluded that if I had a therapist and was living in a familiar household with a different aspect of life I was fine and no longer had any issues that was an unbreakable rope tied around my body, suffocating my happiness. You would think after all the hell I put my loved ones and myself through while in the city I wouldn’t go downhill when I came home. Ironically, I still managed to give into the hollering thoughts and attempted taking my life away two more times before being admitted into a rehab center.
I had finally gain an awareness of exactly how lethal my actions towards myself were and I was proud to announce to anyone who questioned me that I did not abuse my sensitive skin with a worthless piece of metal. Or how even when my lips beg for the taste of liquid that I was surrounded by daily, I declined it. I’ve been acting upon these steps for around seven months now and it’s refreshing to breathe in warm air and find the beauty of chirping birds and emerald green leaves that sway along in the calm winds.
The bright streaks of light that discharged from the morning sun pushed through the blinds that covered the kitchen windows. My hands wrapped around a white mug, stained from years of use. My eyes trailed along the swirls of air escaping the heated cup, having the scent pleasantly fill my nostrils. I reached for the remote and turned on the flat screen located by the sink and grabbed a muffin, taking a rather large bite before putting it down. I chewed slowly, listening to the tune the current commercial played and smiled when my grandmother entered the room, her positive attitude beaming off of her.
“Morning babe, did you sleep well last night?” She casually asked, grabbing a cup from cupboard and pouring herself coffee.
I replied. “Yeah I did. Why are you going to work so early?” I spoke the question the minute it surfaced my mind.
My Nana raised her eyebrows, laughing while she answered. “Well tomorrow we have another signing. This certain band has many - I mean so many it could fill this town ten times- fans.”
I nodded my head, parting my lips to ask whose arrival would cause this much attention till a few words halted my focus.
“Heartthrobs Luke Hemmings and Calum Hood from 5 Seconds of Summer, or 5Sauce if I may, were seen leaving Robert’s Bar at four in the morning! Both boys were swarmed by at least two hundred fans, not including paparazzi who were able to capture many pictures that seemed appalling. Luke, the cold stone drunk of the band was crying, sobbing even while the two were escorted into their car….”
My grandmother muted the television.
She breathed, pushing back a golden curl behind her ear while she frowned. “Blaze it would be best if I told you now.”
My elbows pressed onto the marble counter, my chin fell into my hands. “About what?”
“It wouldn’t be the best idea if you showed up to work tomorrow.” Her voice was lower than usual, as if she was nervous to touch her point.
“Why?” I continued to interrogate her.
“I know last night was incredibly tough for you and it was the first time you stayed sober when that night came around. I’m so proud of you Blaze and I want you to keep this healthy attitude up-“
I cut her off, earning a short glare. “Please don’t sugar coat anything right now, you’re making me anxious.”
She shook her head, unevenly exhaling. “Well the signing tomorrow is for them.” My grandmother pointed to the screen where the band I once knew appeared.
I diverted my eyesight to the ground, gathering the contemplations that raced themselves into my skull and took a profound, needed breath. It took two years but I managed to hear their voices and watch them on screens without sobbing out my regrets and masking my emotions with alcohol. There was something that stood out this time, maybe it was the way my heart was beating or how memories that were cherished squeezed themselves in with my frantic thoughts but I felt the urge to want to show up at work tomorrow. I left them, I was the only who fled allowing them to over analyze everything and never gave them answers.
A scene that reality had generated never entered my mind. I was too consumed with fixing myself that the possibility of ever gazing into the cerulean eyes I fell in love with was never a plan to me. I wondered if they even cared at this point, it had been three years since I’ve shared words with them. They had the glamour, money and are doing what they used to dream about so why would they want to take a walk down memory lane?
“I- I want to go to work tomorrow.” I hesitated to talk and it was evident by the heat that rouse to my tan cheeks.
“If I was you darling, I wouldn’t want to be near Luke. Honey, I hope you don’t have any ounce of hope that he changed into something good. I mean you hear about him daily, throwing himself at any girl, buying anything his eyes land on and making himself sound like a victim in every song they perform.” She voiced her opinion, which stung but I was grateful for it.
“I know where you’re coming from Nan and I respect it. There’s a book we shared and it never received its closer and I feel like if I see him, just once, it can finally be closed.” I explained, taking a sip of my sweeten drink.
“I’ve always admired your way of words Blaze.” Her caramel eyes scanned my face, having a grin blossom on her own. “But sometimes I hate it.”
I giggled. “You can work tomorrow but Tristian will keep a good eye on you. This is if you want to be their assistant which I’m assuming that’s your wish because that’s how you’ll be allowed to hold a conversation with any of them.” She told me.
A large smile morphed itself on my lips. “I love you so much!”
I wrapped my arms around her body, showing my appreciation as I kissed her cheek.
“God I hope you stay healing.” She whispered against the top of my head.
“I will, bruised is a completed book.” I assured her.
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wow i really liked writing this chapter and im so happy that my baby blaze is happy
i wonder what you think will happen when bluke meets ;)
goal;
25 votes, 20 comments and 150 reads
q.o.t.d
i know a lot of you probably wont answer but im curious to see who your favorite character in bruised was
mine was rain bc she was always pulling out these deep quotes
alright bye babes probably wont update will next weekend bc of so many midterms, love you!!
remember my fav comment gets a dedication
YOU ARE READING
Healed//l.h a.u
Fanfiction"I never could understand how someone as beautiful and loved as you could self mutilate, till one night, I realized you weren't the only one who was bruised." sequel to Bruised cover made by: sugarhood
