Wristbound (Something to Keep My Mind Off Of You), chapter 1
My whole body trembled as I, yet again, slid the smooth blade of the razor over my skin. The pain was enormous and I had to fight back the tears again. No, cutting wasn't a perfect stranger, that's not why I was shaking. I was terrified of what my mom would do to me. What Cetera would do to me. I shivered and lay the blade back on the sink. Not again....at least not today. I watched the crimson blood seep over the edges of the several cuts I'd added to my collection that day.
They were painful and beginning to swell a bit. I was beginning to think that I had made a huge mistake. Meaning, I should have just ended it. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to. I'd had dreams. Horrible dreams of fright and sadness. I had a dream about my friends at my funeral, I was alive, yet I wasn't...trapped in some middle world where you were neither seen, nor heard but you could see and hear everything and everyone around you. I hated that dream. It kept coming back to me like scars that remind you of painful memories.
No doubt I had my share of those too, but these dreams were worse. Much worse. I jumped when my mom barged through the bathroom door and screamed at me in a drunken slur. I wondered if she could hear how hard my heart was thumping agaisnt my chest before she decided to punch me in the stomach.
I fell in a heap on the floor and she kicked me in the ribs. I screamed out shrilly in pain, I'd always sounded like a girl.
If alcohol didn't exsist, my life would be next to perfect. But, unfortunaltly, it did exsist and nearly every day I came home to a beating or something equally as horrible. She hated me when she was drunk, called me an accident...a nusiance...a waste of breath... yeah, she really hated me when she was drunk. I remember coughing up blood before I passed out with a strong blow to the head. Evrything went dark again.
When I woke my head hurt with rupturing pain as I tried to sit up. The blood on the floor beside me brought back all the events prior to that time. I jumped back around to make sure she wasn't there. Good. I pulled myslef up off the floor and onto my feet. I felt so weak though, like I hadn't used my legs for ages. Maybe I hadn't. I didn't know how long I'd been down.
I looked up at the clock on the bathroom wall that revealed I'd been out cold for a solid 4 hours. Mom was passed out on the floor in her bedroom. I flipped her off and tiptoed to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I grabbed my backpack and stuffed some of my stuff into it carelessy. Some clothes, some CD's, my CD player and a couple pictures from the tack board above my bed. I slipped my Silver heart necklace over my neck before I slung the bag over my shoulder.
It suddenly hit me that this was probably the last time I'd ever see my room again. I turned back at the door, and turned off the light before I clambered down the stairs out out the door to the one place I always knew to go. Kevin's. Kev wasn't just my best friend.
He was so much more than that and we'd grown to find that the strength and compasion that we found in one another was more than a slightly hovering thought. I can say that I have done nothing more than to participate in the occaisional, lately more frequent, make-out session with him and he had proven to be a very fine partner.
His being there had always comforted me, even in the worst of situations and I'd always found him to be more optimistic than myself. Perhaps that's why, for the longest time, I'd chosen him over anyone else, to have an optimistic side.
My converse slapped the pavement angrily and a frown was burrowing deeper into the very few creases in my skin. I was a failure. At least, that's the way my mom saw it, and in reality, at the time, it'd had been all that mattered...what she thought of me. Then, my mind wandered to the thought of Cetera. What would she think of me now?
At that point, her and Kevin's view of me was what mattered and I knew she would be upset with me. I had promised her I'd never resort to cutting, yet I did it anyway. And I feared that if she knew I'd broken my promise, she'd break hers as well. I had always found comfort in her eyes and embrace and I loved that she did have some optimism...even though she only showed it in a clandestine way.
I was amazed how quickly I fell for her, given the fact that Kevin was the only one I'd previously been involved with. Kev had introduced us and I simply couldn't pull awayu from her eyes.
It was apparent that she too could not believe her eyes when she'd first met me. But it was also shown in her body language, the feelings she had for Kevin. And I knew this. She confided in me more and more until she and I were as close as she and Kevin. I did so miss the days when drama was as little a part in our lives as politics and anything else that now, truely mattered.
I approached Kevin's door and rapped on it lightly with my knuckles. His hair was disheveled and messy, which, to me, made him simply all the more attractive, and he had a blanket sprawled over the couch. I smiled a small, sad smile and he let me in after giving me a hug and a peck on the cheek. I sat on his couch and he sat down next to me, leaning on my shoulder.
"Not now, Kev..." He looked truely disappointed. "Sorry...I have so much on my mind..." He stared at his hands in his lap.
"Lemme see them..." I held out my arm reluctantly as he scanned over the five new scars. He shook his head. "What's that make now?" He said, "Twenty-five?" I nodded. "What'd she do to you this time?"
I showed him the cut on my head where I'd hit the floor, the bruises on my ribs and stomach and the few cuts I'd made on my side. He just shook his head wearily and leaned on the back of the couch. "How are you telling her, Chris?" He asked me. I buried my face in my hands.
"I-I don't know..." I said finally. "Just don't tell her." He rolled his eyes. I knew what he thought of my lying habit. I felt instantly guilty. "I have no idea...Can I stay here tonight?" He smiled.
"What's in it for me?" I glared at him. "Sorry...Stay as long as you like." I smiled and gave him a quick hug.
"Thanks," He nodded.
"No problem..."
They were painful and beginning to swell a bit. I was beginning to think that I had made a huge mistake. Meaning, I should have just ended it. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to. I'd had dreams. Horrible dreams of fright and sadness. I had a dream about my friends at my funeral, I was alive, yet I wasn't...trapped in some middle world where you were neither seen, nor heard but you could see and hear everything and everyone around you. I hated that dream. It kept coming back to me like scars that remind you of painful memories.
No doubt I had my share of those too, but these dreams were worse. Much worse. I jumped when my mom barged through the bathroom door and screamed at me in a drunken slur. I wondered if she could hear how hard my heart was thumping agaisnt my chest before she decided to punch me in the stomach.
I fell in a heap on the floor and she kicked me in the ribs. I screamed out shrilly in pain, I'd always sounded like a girl.
If alcohol didn't exsist, my life would be next to perfect. But, unfortunaltly, it did exsist and nearly every day I came home to a beating or something equally as horrible. She hated me when she was drunk, called me an accident...a nusiance...a waste of breath... yeah, she really hated me when she was drunk. I remember coughing up blood before I passed out with a strong blow to the head. Evrything went dark again.
When I woke my head hurt with rupturing pain as I tried to sit up. The blood on the floor beside me brought back all the events prior to that time. I jumped back around to make sure she wasn't there. Good. I pulled myslef up off the floor and onto my feet. I felt so weak though, like I hadn't used my legs for ages. Maybe I hadn't. I didn't know how long I'd been down.
I looked up at the clock on the bathroom wall that revealed I'd been out cold for a solid 4 hours. Mom was passed out on the floor in her bedroom. I flipped her off and tiptoed to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I grabbed my backpack and stuffed some of my stuff into it carelessy. Some clothes, some CD's, my CD player and a couple pictures from the tack board above my bed. I slipped my Silver heart necklace over my neck before I slung the bag over my shoulder.
It suddenly hit me that this was probably the last time I'd ever see my room again. I turned back at the door, and turned off the light before I clambered down the stairs out out the door to the one place I always knew to go. Kevin's. Kev wasn't just my best friend.
He was so much more than that and we'd grown to find that the strength and compasion that we found in one another was more than a slightly hovering thought. I can say that I have done nothing more than to participate in the occaisional, lately more frequent, make-out session with him and he had proven to be a very fine partner.
His being there had always comforted me, even in the worst of situations and I'd always found him to be more optimistic than myself. Perhaps that's why, for the longest time, I'd chosen him over anyone else, to have an optimistic side.
My converse slapped the pavement angrily and a frown was burrowing deeper into the very few creases in my skin. I was a failure. At least, that's the way my mom saw it, and in reality, at the time, it'd had been all that mattered...what she thought of me. Then, my mind wandered to the thought of Cetera. What would she think of me now?
At that point, her and Kevin's view of me was what mattered and I knew she would be upset with me. I had promised her I'd never resort to cutting, yet I did it anyway. And I feared that if she knew I'd broken my promise, she'd break hers as well. I had always found comfort in her eyes and embrace and I loved that she did have some optimism...even though she only showed it in a clandestine way.
I was amazed how quickly I fell for her, given the fact that Kevin was the only one I'd previously been involved with. Kev had introduced us and I simply couldn't pull awayu from her eyes.
It was apparent that she too could not believe her eyes when she'd first met me. But it was also shown in her body language, the feelings she had for Kevin. And I knew this. She confided in me more and more until she and I were as close as she and Kevin. I did so miss the days when drama was as little a part in our lives as politics and anything else that now, truely mattered.
I approached Kevin's door and rapped on it lightly with my knuckles. His hair was disheveled and messy, which, to me, made him simply all the more attractive, and he had a blanket sprawled over the couch. I smiled a small, sad smile and he let me in after giving me a hug and a peck on the cheek. I sat on his couch and he sat down next to me, leaning on my shoulder.
"Not now, Kev..." He looked truely disappointed. "Sorry...I have so much on my mind..." He stared at his hands in his lap.
"Lemme see them..." I held out my arm reluctantly as he scanned over the five new scars. He shook his head. "What's that make now?" He said, "Twenty-five?" I nodded. "What'd she do to you this time?"
I showed him the cut on my head where I'd hit the floor, the bruises on my ribs and stomach and the few cuts I'd made on my side. He just shook his head wearily and leaned on the back of the couch. "How are you telling her, Chris?" He asked me. I buried my face in my hands.
"I-I don't know..." I said finally. "Just don't tell her." He rolled his eyes. I knew what he thought of my lying habit. I felt instantly guilty. "I have no idea...Can I stay here tonight?" He smiled.
"What's in it for me?" I glared at him. "Sorry...Stay as long as you like." I smiled and gave him a quick hug.
"Thanks," He nodded.
"No problem..."
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