I stare blankly at the disgusting figure in front of me, at all the horrific scars and bruises that ruin his skin. All the fresh and old scars. I stare at how much he looks like his father, and how little he looks like his mother.
I grip the counter top as static fills my ears, one thing on my mind. One thing that will distract me from this hideous, beaten down, freak, in front if me.
(SMALL SELF HARM WARNING)
Blood drops fall onto the bathtub floor as the water from the showerhead falls down my body, and I stand there in silence, watching the bloody water go down the drain.
I wish I could disappear down the drain, too. Be forgotten and never thought of again.
I grip the blade in my pointer and thumb, fighting the urge to keep going.
I sigh deeply, reaching out of the shower to place the blade on the counter.
(END OF SH MENTION)
~~~
It's been... Difficult, today. Phillip had left early for an appointment, so I was alone for lunch today.
I stare at my food, looking completely unappetizing. I eventually pick a grape off it's stem, tossing it in my mouth before I felt a familiar gaze on me.
I didn't even have to look up to know who it was, but I look up anyways, my eyes landing on Sal from across the room.
Something about him almost calmed me. But... I have to admit, he is calming. Not as calming as Phillip. But...
I avert my gaze, glancing back down at the food, feeling sick to even stare at it anymore. Or at anyone else eating.
I stand up, grab my tray and dump it before I walk out of the cafeteria, feeling light headed as I make my way towards the bathroom, already knowing who wasn't far behind.
I walk into a stall, locking the door behind me as I slide down onto the floor before I hear the door open and shut.
Then I see two familiar shoes before he slides down against the door, sitting down as well.
"Phillip isn't here today." He speaks, my eyes shutting as I lean my head back against the wall.
"No, he isn't." I whisper, my hands resting on my knees.
"Hey, at least he was here for most of the day." He tries to lighten the mood, but we both know it didn't work.
"You'll never give up, will you?" I ask, opening my eyes to stare at nothing in particular.
I hear him laugh softly. "No. Never." He replies, and his words make me feel just a bit more calm, but at the same time, a bit annoyed.
What are you doing to me?
~~~
After school I walk to the graveyard. I've been frequently coming here. More than usual. Like a lot.
I walk to her grave, sitting down in front of it. "Hi mom." I whisper.
It never gets any easier coming here, but I know that, and that's okay.
"Coming here makes me feel closer to you, I think." I shrug, my eyes staring down at the grass.
"I wish you were still alive, mom." I sigh deeply, tilting my head back to stare up at the cloudy sky.
The familiar lump starts to form in my throat as I start to scratch at my wrist.
"Mom... I..." I swallow hard, tears forming in my eyes. I can't keep crying like this. It's pathetic. But, this is the only time I can cry anymore.
"He's getting worse, mom." I choke out as I inhale, my lungs hurting. Or maybe it's my heart. I don't know. Everything hurts so who really knows what it is.
"I don't know what to do anymore. I don't want to bother Phillip anymore and- and-" I shake my head as I look down at her grave.
"I don't know what to do. You used to say to follow my heart and to follow my instinct, but my heart always leads me to sins and my demise." I whisper, the thought of him flashing in my mind.
"What should I do, mom?" I cry, a single tear falling down my cheek as I stare at her name carved into the headstone, biting down on my lip.
I miss your hugs, mom. I miss your kisses. I miss your stories. I miss your meals. I miss you. Father blames me for your death. That can't be true, can it? I can't be that bad, can I?
I can't be worse than him, right?
Or maybe... Maybe I'm just like him and that's why you left me with him. Maybe you knew that I would grow up to be just as horrible as him, and you didn't want to live to see it happen.
If that's the case, I'm sorry I killed you, mom. I'm sorry I caused you pain. But why must you make me suffer?
I'm trying not to be like him, can't you see? Can't you see that I'm hurting? Please, please I'll do anything to be with you again, mom.
Just to feel your hug one last time.