“Hurting”
I curl up even tighter, and let the hot water run over me. I love showers. They really help me relax, and take my mind off of things. . . or people. I sigh, and lay my head on my knees since I haven unsuccessfully tried not to think of you. I feel tears well up in my eyes, and have once again failed to do something correctly. I didn’t want to cry.
I eventually get out to the shower, feeling worse than before. I simply put on my pajamas, and go to bed.
“What, you’re already in bed? Have you even done your homework yet?”
I cringe, as my mother bursts in unannounced.
“Yes, I’ve done my homework.” I lie, “And I’m fine, just a little tired.”
I just lied again.
“Alright…” my mom says with a frown. She knows I ‘m lying, but doesn’t question any further.
“Goodnight.”
“Night.”
She shuts the door, and leaves. Finally, I’m alone, which is something I’ve grown used to. I wrap my comforter closer around me, simply so I can feel something touching my skin. And I wait. Eventually, I hear my mother go to bed. There was my cue. I slowly get up out of bed, and walk to my desk. I then open a small drawer and pull out a box. Taking off the lid, I stop for a moment. Do I want to do this? Yeah, I do. I pull out the small, yet sharp piece of glass nestled within.
With glass in one hand, I set the box down with my other. I hold my trembling hand over my other, and make a small cut. As I see a thin line of blood trickle out, I feel relieved, though I know I shouldn’t.
“It’s your fault I do this to myself, “ I whisper “if it weren’t for you, I’d be happy.”
Tears start to fall, and one lands on the cut. It stings, but snaps me out of my wayward thoughts.
“What the hell am I thinking? It’s not your fault. It’s only mine. I’m such a selfish person, no wonder I don’t deserve you…”
I stow everything away, and go back to my bed, pulling the comforter once again tightly around me.
The next day comes too soon. I can never get enough sleep anymore; no matter what time I go to bed. I pull on my clothes, get my bag together, grab my keys, and leave without breakfast. I’m just not hungry anymore.
I arrive early to school, and not wanting to talk to anyone, I head to the library. Ad I’m walking to my usual secluded corner, I spot the librarian Ms. Naomi, and give her a small wave. She smiles, and wave back, only to continue sternly talking to the boy next to her. Something about why books should not be used as projectiles.
I find my favorite comfy chair unoccupied, so I curl up, and pull out my Ipod. I begin to get drowsy, and eventually fall asleep. In what seems like an instant later, I wake up to someone jabbing me.
“Hey! Wake up! If you don’t, you’ll miss first period!”
I shoot up out of my seat when I hear this, frantically stuffing my various items into my bag. Then, I hear giggling, and realize I’ve been tricked. I look over at Ms. Naomi, and see that she is still giving the same student a lecture. Barely five minutes had passed. I look at you, and my heart aches. But, I can’t let you know anything is wrong, so I respond,
“You are a jerk, you know that?”
You just smile and nod.
“So, what’s up? Was there a reason you decided to scare me half to death? Or do you just like annoying me?”
You smile again, but I realize something is wrong when I look into your eyes. They seem rather serious, even a little sad.
“Something wrong?”
“Actually,” You say, sitting down in the chair next to me “I’ve been meaning to ask you the same thing.”
You glance at the red marks on my wrists, and I automatically cross my arms.
“Of course I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“Well… you’ve just been really. . . aloof lately, and it seems like you’re a little depressed. Not to mention, you’re a really bad liar.”
I frown, and look away. You can’t find out, you just can’t.
“I told you, I’m fine.”
I hear my voice say icily. Now you look a little perturbed.
“You are the worst liar I have ever met. What is wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong damn it!” I practically shout.
I see Ms. Naomi look over my way, with a mixture of worry and annoyance.
“You cannot say that,” you reply in an angry whisper. “Just look at what you’re doing to yourself.”
You motion to my wrists.
“That is none of your business.” I snap.
“Yeah, I think it is my business, considering my best friend seems to have a death wish!”
I grab my bag, and get up to leave.
“Wait!” you whisper frantically, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”
I just stare at you for a moment, and leave.
Somehow, I manage to avoid you for the rest of the week.
Finally, Friday came around. I arrived home from school, only to find a suitcase at the door.
“Hey mom!” I yell “Where are you going?!”
“Business trip, remember?! Had it planned for months!”
“Oh yeah…” I mumble.
Guess I had just forgotten.
My mother comes down the stairs with another suitcase, and proceeded to carry them both to the car.
“I’ll be gone till Monday, alright? No wild parties, there’s enough money on my dresser if you need it. Okay? Love you, bye.”
You peck me on the cheek, and leave. I now see why your co-workers call you ‘The Whirlwind’ behind your back.
I sigh, and realize I am even more alone that before.
“Till Monday…” I repeat, and look at my watch.
I had some time to kill, considering it was only Friday. So you know what I do? I go upstairs, and sleep. The sad part is, I’m hoping I won’t wake up.
Unfortunately, I do wake up. Too bad. I was having a nice dream about flying. I look at the clock, and realize that it’s Saturday. Wow, almost thirteen hours of sleep. It’s very early, and I want o go back to sleep. But I don’t, because for the first time in ages, my stomach is growling. I wonder if pizza delivers at five in the morning?
Surprisingly, I get pizza at 5 A.M., and spend the rest of the day moping around the house. It starts getting dark around 8 P.M., and I realize I have truly done nothing all day. How pathetic. I almost wish I had someone to talk to.
As if someone were listening to my prayers, the doorbell rings. I groan, and head downstairs. I see it’s you before I even open the door. Should I open it? I decide yes, and twist the knob.
“Ummm, hi,” you say “heard your mom left town, and I thought I’d keep you some company. Can I come in?”
I nod, and move aside. You walk in, and remove your shoes at the door mat. Then we both make the trek up the stairs to my room. We both plop ourselves on the bed, and look at each other. We just sit there for ten minutes, and look at each other. Finally, you reach over and embrace me. My heart begins to beat quickly.
“I’m so sorry,” You whisper in my ear (Which is now bright red) “I never should have pushed you…”
“No!” I frantically reply back, “I shouldn’t have been so rude to you, I mean I…”
You put a finger over my lips to quiet me. A blush starts to creep up my cheeks. You notice too.
“Its my fault,” you say “I noticed months ago that something was different, but never really did anything to help, did I?”
“That’s not true,” I whisper back “Just by being a friend to me, just by. . . existing you’ve helped me.”
“Once again, I must say that you are a bad liar.”
Your eyes lower down to my wrists. You slowly lift my right hand in yours, and run your finger along the numerous scars.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” You ask softly, not really looking for an answer.
I notice tears start to make their way out of your gorgeous, pain-filled eyes.
“Please don’t cry…” I murmur, wiping away your tears, “I’m just . . . afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid to tell you.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you might hate me.”
Your eyes grow wide, then a little angry.
“How could you ever think that? I’m always here for you, and I don’t want to see you hurting any longer. So please. . .”
I sigh, and nod.
“The truth is . . . well I …”
I can’t continue my sentence, so I do the only thing I can think of. I lean over, and kiss you.
Your eyes well up with more tears, and you close them, leaning farther into the kiss. It’s like a dream to me. I had been mentally preparing myself for a slap. But here we were, the epitome of a romantic kiss. You finally pull away, and look me in the eye.
“You were doing this . . . you were hurting because of me?"
“I- I thought that. . .”
“I’m so sorry!” You lean over and embrace me again. “Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do, but look what I’ve been doing all along. . .”
“No,” I say with a small smile “It’s not your fault. If I had just told you sooner. . .”
“I know, but. . .”
To prevent you from blaming yourself even more, I silence you with another kiss. You sigh dreamily, and lean in more.
Finally, my love is realized. Finally, everything is right. And finally, I am no longer hurting.
~END~
