This is just a short story I wrote today. I haven't written anything in years so it probably isn't very good. If you want more let me know and I will do another chapter.
Chapter 1
I waited until I heard the door close behind her. I wanted to be alone. My mom had a tendency to open my bedroom door without knocking Thats how she caught me the last time. I couldn't take anymore chances. I quickly went back upstairs to my bedroom and closed the door for good measure. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was such a disgrace to my family and friends. Here I was, a 15 year old girl who seemed to have everything. A family who loved and cared for her, friends, good grades, a boyfriend...everything. Yet there was an empty feeling deep inside me that could not be filled no matter how hard I tried, it still lingered. I walked to my closet and opened the door, scanning the shelf quickly my eyes rested on my little brown box. I took out the box and opened it on my bed. It had all the supplies I needed, razors, tissue, disinfectant, I checked them off silently in my head. I rolled up my sleeve, my arm was full of fresh cuts from only yesterday and I was beginning to run out of room. I found a fresh patch of skin and pressed down instantly feeling a wave of relief. Just as I was beginning my fifth cut I heard the door bell.
"SH--! Okay don't panic," I said to myself. "Its probably just a salesman...." I tried reassuring myself.
The fresh cuts on my arm were starting to seep blood and I pressed one of the tissues against my arm hoping that the pressure would slow down the bleeding. I threw on my favorite white knitted sweater and headed downstairs. Upon opening the door I was greeted with a bouquet of beautiful tulips, hiding behind them was a familiar face.
"Justin! Wow, whats the occasion?" I was so surprised by the flowers I forgot about the pain in my arm.
"You're the occasion sweetie, I wanted to do something nice for you," Justin put the flowers in my hands and let himself into the house.
I was stunned for a moment, "let me put these in some water," I finally said. "They're so beautiful Justin, thank you. You really didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to baby. Besides, I couldn't wait until school on Monday to see you!"
I began filling a vase with some water and chopping the stems off the flowers. Justin came up and put his strong arms around my waist and began kissing my neck and then my cheek. I let myself sink into him and feel his warmth.
"Sarah," he said with a touch of concern in his voice, "you're bleeding."
It was then I remembered my arm. Looking down I could see the blood had seeped through my sleeve. What could I say? Justin didn't know about my cutting. We had been dating for 9 months now and I had been cutting myself since long before then. I wore long sleeves at all times. I never let him see me without my sweaters on, unless the light was off and even then I was careful. How could I have screwed up now? I wanted to slap myself. The vase began to overflow with water and I snapped back to reality. Turning off the tap I said, "oh, yeah...its nothing....just a little scrape."
"Let me see, it looks like its been bleeding pretty bad."
"No Justin, its fine!" I snapped. There was no reason for him to be suspicious and I hoped he'd drop the conversation.
"Sarah, let me see your arm. At least take off your sweater, the blood is going to ruin it. If its just a scrape lets go clean it and put a band-aid on it."
"Justin, just let it drop okay?"
"No, its not okay. Whats wrong with you? Its not a big deal, I don't understand why you won't let me take a look at it." He had turned me around to face him now and he had a serious look on his face. I knew being stubborn would only make him pursue the matter further but I didn't know what else to do.
"Okay fine I will go to the bathroom and clean it up. Happy now?" I began walking to the bathroom but I could hear him following close behind me. I shouldn't have been so stubborn I thought. I was going over a million different responses I could have had in the first place that would have helped avoid this whole situation. Why couldn't I have acted surprised and gone to the bathroom in the first place? Why did I have to make him so suspicious? Obviously now he's wondering why I won't show him my arm. "Could you please finish putting the flowers in the vase for me?" I asked him, hoping he'd leave me alone.
"Sure babe, just let me help you with that arm first."
"Its okay, I'll be fine. I really don't want those flowers to dry out. "
"They can wait 10 minutes babe, don't worry. Roll up your sleeve and lets take a look at your arm."
"Justin, please leave me alone. I can do this myself! I don't need you to take care of me!" I was getting really defensive now.
"Sarah, whats wrong with you? Why won't you show me your arm? I will make you if I have to, I don't want to have to, but I will." I didn't even respond. I just stood there looking at our reflections in the bathroom mirror. This was it. He was going to find out everything. He was going to find out and break up with me, or worse, break up with me and tell my parents what I had done to myself. All of a sudden I felt him grab my arm. I tried to pull away but he was holding me too tightly. I struggled but it was too late, he yanked up my sleeve.
Thanks, I'm glad you guys like it. I was pretty worried about posting it. I've done another chapter.
Chapter 2
At first he didn't say a word. He just stood there looking at my arm in shock for what seemed like hours on end. In reality it was probably more like a few seconds. I too didn't say anything. Even the best of lies wasn't going to work this time. My arm was literally covered in cuts and scars, not to mention my five cuts from not more than 10 minutes ago that were still bleeding.
"Babe what happened?" there was panic in his voice. "Who is doing this to you?" he demanded. I just stood there in shock. I had nothing to say. I was numb.
"We need to stop the bleeding. I'm going to put some pressure on your arm okay babe?" He opened the closet and pulled out a towel. I wanted to tell him not to use a white one because my parents would see the blood but I couldn't find my voice. He was pressing the towel against my cuts now.
"Please tell me what happened Sarah. I need to know." He was starting to pressure me again. I still couldn't answer. I couldn't say anything. "Babe please! I need you to talk to me! Please!" He started turning on the sink now. He took off the towel and gently put my arm under the water. It stung a little and the pain brought me a little bit of relief. The cuts started to bleed again as the newly formed scabs were washed away. He placed the towel on my arm again when he felt my arm had been suficently cleaned.
With one arm around my shoulders and the other still applying pressure to my arm, he escorted me to the couch. I felt sick to my stomach and was relieved to be sitting down now. I knew in a minute the interagation would start. I still didn't have any answers for him.
"Sarah...." He stopped. He was holding my arm and looking over it very carefully. Looking at each scar, mark, and cut. I felt so ashamed. I had never wanted him to know. I was going to have to tell him. He looked so worried.
"I'm sorry," I said. It was all I could choke out before I burst into tears. He instantly held me close.
"Don't worry babe, its going to be alright. You tell me who is doing this to you. I'm going to make everything better." He still doesn't get it. He can't understand why anyone would do this to themselves. For a few seconds I tried to think of someone else I could pin this on. Of course that was just going to make everything worse. And besides, my parents would know the truth. My mom had caught me not much more than a year ago when I had first started. It wasn't as bad back then, just a few cuts every few weeks. I had promised I wouldn't do it again, said I had just been experimenting. I was more careful now. Or at least I thought I had been.
"Babe you're covered in cuts. Oh sweetheart, I can't believe this. I love you," He was crying now and I felt even worse. "Please let me help you, please tell me who did this to you!"
"It was me." I said it so softly I could barely hear my own words.
"What do you mean?" He asked through sobs. "What do you mean it was you?"
I didn't know how to answer. I was so scared now. I didn't know how he was going to react. "It was me. I cut myself. I did this to me."
Before I could even see the look on his face his arms were around me. "Why would you do this to yourself? I don't understand. I can't understand this Sarah."
I didn't answer.
"I love you. I love you so much. You know that don't you?" His voice sounded weak.
"I do know that. Of course I know that."
His grip around me released and he pulled back to look at me some more. His eyes had so much worry and concern in them. I felt so guilty. He didn't deserve this. He's only 17, he can't handle issues like this. Before I knew it he was pulling up my other sleeve. I didn't try to stop him. There was no point in hiding anything now.
My other arm was much the same as my first one. Covered in cuts and scars. Barely enough room to add anything more to it. More tears rolled down his cheeks.
"I'm going to get you some help babe. We need to talk to someone about this." His voice was getting stronger now.
"No! Please....please, I can stop! Please Justin. You can't tell anyone! They will send me away. Please!" I begged.
"Sarah, this is crazy. You need help. You are cut up like a piece of meat here. You're telling me you did this to yourself. You..."
"I will stop! I promise I will. Just give me a chance." My voice desperate.
"I want to know everything Sarah. I'm not going to keep your secret unless I know you're safe. I need to see what you cut yourself with."
I knew he wasn't fooling around. He was pulling himself together as best he could now. I didn't know how I was supposed to reveal all my pain to him. He surely didn't know what he was asking of me. But somehow I found myself leading him upstairs to my room. My razors would still be lying on the bed, my brown box half open filled with all my supplies. He was going to see it all now.
“Never lose faith in yourself,
and never lose hope;
remember, even when this world throws its worst and then turns its back,
there is still always hope.”
I really appreciate all the replies from everyone. It means a lot to me. Sorry I've taken so long to write more but heres the next chapter.
Chapter 3
I paused at the half open door, my hand shaking as I pushed it further open. I entered first, I felt an urge to grab my supplies off my bed, to push him back out of my room, to try and keep my secret safe, but it was too late for that.
I turned around to look at Justin. I don't think he had expected everything to be sitting out just waiting to be discovered. I remained silent. I didn't want to be the first to say something. I would wait for him to speak, to tell me that I was crazy and walk out the door. I watched his lips, waiting for them to part, for sound to come through them and hit my ear. He just looked though. His eyes staring hard at me, as if there was something more to see that would be revealed if he just looked at me long enough. I felt myself getting angry with him. Who was he to judge me? Who was he to decide he needed to help me?
"Babe...." he hugged me close. My anger subsided a little. "I just want you to be safe. I love you so much." His arms lowered and his hands found mine. "I don't know what to do." There was so much pain in his eyes. I wanted to tell him to just forget it ever happened even though I knew that wasn't possible.
"Justin, I'm sorry. I should have told you about this a long time ago. I just didn't know how." I waited for a response but he didn't even say anything. I moved to sit on my bed and he was quick behind me, still holding onto me. "I'm really sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just let me help you. I'm here for you now, I always will be."
"I don't need help. You're really over-reacting. Trust me. I can stop, and I will. I promise." I could see he was still concerned and anxious. I couldn't tell how convincing I was being.
"Babe I can't just trust that. You have hidden this from me for months. I don't even know how I didn't notice. I should have asked more questions, I should have wondered why you always wore long sleeves. I'm the one who should be sorry," he sighed. "And I am sorry. I'm sorry I can't trust you enough to stop hurting yourself. I'm sorry that in a moment I'm going to take away these razors whether you like it or not."
"Take them," I said with even a bit of enthusiasm in my voice. "I don't need them now. I'm never going to do this again!" I think at that moment, I believed every word that was coming out of my mouth. I watched as he packed up my things, preparing to take them with him when he left, and I honestly didn't care. It felt good to have let someone in and share something that I had never fully shared with anyone in the whole world before. He took my razors downstairs and I followed him. He was quieter than usual but he didn't seem upset. He put them in a plastic bag and I went back to cutting stems instead of my body.
The afternoon slipped by quickly with us watching old cartoons, eating lunch, and playing some xbox. I felt more relieved than ever before. I knew I was safe now. I couldn't cut if he had my razors. He would protect me from myself and it was the best feeling in the world. We said good-bye just as my dad was pulling in the driveway with my brother.
"Have fun at football?" I asked my brother as he pushed past me.
"Sure! I tackled this guy down," he laughed as he continued on with the story which I struggled to pay attention to. My thoughts were still on MY afternoon and on Justin.
"Hi Honey," my dad cheerfully said as he walked by me as well. "Wheres your mother?"
"She went out to Aunt Terri's house for the afternoon, she said she'd be home by dinner time," I said before crawling up to my room to wait in peace until dinner.
I didn't eat much at dinner and I didn't talk much either. I was surprised at how quickly my mood was diminishing. I was already feeling strong urges to cut myself again. I relaxed a little, remembering I didn't have my razors anymore. I tried to focus on other things, but it wasn't working. I went back up to my room and paced the floor. I finally called Justin, but his phone just continued to ring. It was only 8 o'clock, he had probably gone out with his family I thought, as no one else had picked up the phone. I thought about sneaking a knife up to my room but it was too risky. I wrote in my journal, talked about my day, and remembered how great I had felt for those few hours and how short lived they were.
When I woke up it was dark out. My journal was still out and my pen lying next to it. I must of fallen asleep while I was writing. I looked over at the clock on the wall. It was a little past two. I felt pressure in my bladder and realized I had to pee pretty badly. I got up and went downstairs to the bathroom. "Might as well stay up for a bit now," I said to myself. I scanned the T.V. for something good on, but as usual there was nothing on this late. I felt the urges come back to me as I became more awake. I couldn't hide from this feeling could I? No matter what it would find me and take over.
It was with that realization that I decided to do what I did next. This was no longer about needing to escape and release the pain that built up inside me day after day. This was about knowing I would wake up tomorrow and feel this pain. Knowing I would wake up a month from now and feel it. It wasn't going to go anywhere. I was trapped and I was desperate and I was downing close to a whole bottle of pills from the medicine cabinet.
"People have abused you lots in the past? Why do you then abuse yourself more?" - Quote
Sometimes I feel like I'm alone, Sometimes I feel like I'm not that strong, Sometimes I feel nothing at all, Sometimes I feel vulnerable, Sometimes I feel a little fragile
