How I Learned to Love Myself{DISCONTINUED}

The Morning

I woke up, clutching my covers, of my twin sized bed. My room was on the smaller side, but I had this room for I don’t know how long, and it suited me. The spice brown walls, and the log-looking carpet, made me feel safe. All of my drawings up on the walls, of wolves, and foxes, and other forest animals, like owls, made me feel attached. The bookshelves filled with knick-knacks, and books, made me feel good. The two windows let natural light in like a canopy might out in the wild. I had a closet and a dresser the color of mahogany, same with my bedside table.

As I stood up from my bed, one of my books I was reading the night before, fell from my bed. I looked at my bedside table. The empty prescription bottles reminded me of what happened just four months ago. I looked at my arms. All of the evenly spaced scars were visible. I sucked in my breath, breathed slowly, and quickly got ready.

I was wearing a  black long sleeved shirt, and ripped jeans. I put on my converse, and my eyeliner. Then I walked downstairs.

“Kai,” My dad started. He wasn’t really my dad. No one in my family was mine. I was the one crafted on to a different family tree. I had red hair and green eyes. The rest of my family had brown hair and brown hair. To put it bluntly, I was adopted. My parents died in a car crash, leaving me alone, to either my alcoholic uncle, or go overseas to grandparents, who were already in medical care. So, they put me up for adoption, and I was taken in by the Gillans.

“Remember, tonight you have to go to-”

“The counselor's office, I know.” I cut in.

“Kai!” This was my “mom”. “This is very serious! We can’t have you do what you did before!” She was mentioning the cutting and the attempt at an OD. It was true, last summer I had a very low point. I was bullied to the point of feeling non-existent. I soon realized that physical pain felt good to duel the pain of being invisible. Then finally, one night, I opened up my right wrist, and took way too many pills, so that the medics would have a harder time saving me. I didn’t want to be saved. I wanted to die. I wanted to be gone forever.

But they managed to bring me back, put me in support groups, and try to make me live like a normal person again.

“Kai, can we go now?” This was my little brother. He was only in 6th grade, but he took all of my problems seriously. Even though he wasn’t related, he was my only real family to me. His name was Mike.

“Sure.” I said. We walked out of the house, and walked to the bus stop. When our bus came we boarded. That yellow bus was the start of problems already. They always tell parents that their kids are safe at school. That’s not true getting there. And for me, school was never safe, no matter if I was getting there, or actually there.

“Kai the Cutter is back!” One kid shouted as my brother and I boarded.

“Don’t listen to them.” Mike said. “They don’t understand you like I do, Kai.”

We walked to the back of the bus, and sat down as the bus lurched into motion. I was only thinking the whole ride there. Not preparing myself for the pain, just thinking. Would Mike be better without me in his way? I’m I an obstacle to him? It was always about Mike. Never about myself, but his face when he found me on the floor. The tears in his eyes. All the blood he saw. The pills and blood pooling around me. He started screaming for mom and dad. They rushed in horrified at my state. Mom had the medics on the phone, they would be here as soon as the could. Dad swinging over to tie my wrist to stop the bleeding.

The medics rushed in, and gasped at how badly I managed to cut myself. They put my in the stretcher, and carried me away.

“Kai,” Mike said.

“Hm- What?” I asked.

“We’re here.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

We walked of the bus, with our bags, and went into the school. The town was small, so was the school. Middle school was on the ground floor, and high school right above. Mike said bye, and walked to his advisory. I walked upstairs to the counselor's office to start my year in school.