Take Me To Church » Kit Walker

† Hanging On By a Thread

15.

All I could feel was the saltiness that my tears left behind on my chapped lips. This whole 'who-kissed-who' made a gigantic dent in my friendship with Kit, or relationship, whatever you call it. We sure acted like it, but Kit and I weren't even together. That is until all of this happened. He and I no longer spoke to each other at night, we no longer spent time together like in the old days, nor did we play board games together. Now, it seemed like all we did, was stare at each other until one looked away.

James had hardly left my side since everything happened. He knew I was going through a lot, so he tried everything he could to cheer me up. He even danced to a song that played on the record player one day. He managed to make me smile, just barely, a few times. But for the most part, he did not. Today in the afternoon, we sat in the common room and played checkers with one another.

He'd been recently talking in French to me, and he'd always have me figure out what he was saying. James told me learned how to speak when he was younger. He liked to travel to the world and found a great fascination with France. So, he had his parents get him a tutor to teach him how to speak the language.

"What did you just say?" I asked him, tilting my head to the side. James chuckled to himself and moved a checker along the board.

"Okay, listen again. J'aime manger du chocolat," he repeated. I tried to process all the foreign words in my mind, but my brain failed to do so, leaving me sitting there, filled with confusion.

"I still don't know it, James. I know it's something about chocolate though," I said with a light groan followed by a laugh. All of a sudden, I felt a heavy pressure on my chest. I looked up from my spot hesitantly and noticed Kit who had entered the common room. Of course.

"Excuse me.." I said with a small gulp and stood up. I smoothed down my boring, old, dirty shirt, and hurried out of the common room right after Kit had entered.

\\

TW: SELF-HARM/MENTION OF BLOOD

I snuck down into the kitchen, luckily without anything noticing my presence. Something sharp, I needed something sharp. I opened various drawers, and... Bingo. I found a shard that had broken off of broken glass and scurried back into my cell. I shut my door, locking it.

I winced and chewed on my lower lip hard as I drew the shard of glass across the inside of my arm. The pain. It felt good to feel the pain again. It gave me this one pleasured feeling that nothing else did. I was addicted, just like Lana was addicted to escaping Briarcliff, and sister Jude with her cigarettes. I did this slowly, drawing along my skin with my pointed paintbrush. A small broken and defeated sob filled the room as I dragged the glass along my wrist. With watery eyes, I glanced down at the blood that beaded over my wrist.

Why? Why wasn't I strong enough? Why did I have to feel so alone? Why did I always turn to self-harm to comfort myself? Why? Why, why? I felt like I stood afar as I was watched my life crumble down right before me, like falling building blocks. I lost my sense of light. And no one could save me from my thoughts. You still love him, the voices in my head echoed. You still love him, and you can't deny it, Hope Prescott!

Kit tore me apart and I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest... But if my heart is really broken then why am I not dead yet? How can that be? I was still messed up about this whole thing but knew one thing for sure... I did still love Kit, and that I knew that wouldn't ever change. Once I made my fourth cut, I froze when I heard banging against my door.

"Hope?! Hope, open the goddamn door!" James. God, if he continues to call out my name, he'll draw attention to my cell. I cringed, gulped, and didn't reply, hoping he'd think I wasn't in here. "Hope!" He proceeded to call for me and I covered my eyes, forcing my eyes shut.

They flew open and widened when I heard footsteps and a few voices. What was going on? I stumbled backward until the back of my legs hit the mattress when I saw noticed my door being unlocked. Two guards burst into my room, but where did James go?

"I see blood, she must have something!" One said. "Behind her back, check behind her back."

I clutched onto the shard of glass and they tackled me to get it out from my hand. I cried out and screamed, the men's hands searching for the shard of glass. I struggled with all my might to keep it away from them.

"Stop! Stop it! Don't touch me!" I screamed and drew the shard over one of the guard's hands. I gasped and watched as he stumbled back and howled in pain.

"She cut me! That little--"

"Shut your trap, Jared. I have it now." The other snatched it from my hand. I fell onto the ground with a small thud and wept.

"Don't cry, you pathetic little girl," The dark brown-haired guard said and rolled his eyes at me. I squirmed as they both dragged me out of my cell. I was brought into another room, which made me feel claustrophobic since the whole room was filled with nothing more than padding. I've been out in here before the last time they caught me hurting myself, but not in a while.

"Have fun and get comfy. You'll be in here for a while, Ms. Prescott," Brian, the intimidating guard, said to me right before they both exited and locked the door behind them. I pounded at the sides of my head and screamed at the top of my lungs. I was in isolation, I just knew it.

I sunk against the wall in the corner of the room and pulled my knees to my chest. I sobbed into them. I can't do this anymore. I felt like I was drowning, I couldn't breathe. I felt as if my lungs were to collapse, and my throat was on fire. I curled up in a ball in the corner of the room and shivered. I was stuck in here, probably for days. And without Kit or anyone else here with me, I felt like I was going more insane than I already was. I felt like I was losing my mind.