My Twin Alpha Mates

Chapter 20:I Kissed The Scars On Her Skin

A/N: Hey everyone! I am loving all of the feedback I have been receiving!! I'm struggling with a few things and am trying to get better for myself and everyone around me. I'm sorry you've had to wait so long.

Today's Song- A Match Into Water by Pierce The Veil. Enjoy!

Warning: Lots of character growth and feel attacks. Touchy subjects for some.

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I woke up nestled between my mates. I carefully slid underneath their arms and waltzed to the bathroom. Stripping for my shower, I looked disgusted at my body.

Faint white lines painted my thighs and hips. I traced a fingernail over each one. It brought back memories. I haven't, in a very long time. I have no reason now. But the pain. The pain used to be so much.

I fought back tears with the same chant I have used since age thirteen. 'In with the tears, out with the will to cry.' I feel that if I cry then I just won't stop. My mates. They don't need to see me like this.

I'm surprised they haven't noticed the lines. I knew they payed sweet attention to my body, but they just haven't looked. Maybe they are naked to another persons eye. Maybe I can only see them still because I wish to see them.

I walked over to the shower and turned it on, setting it to the perfect temperature. The boys liked it way too hot for my liking. But anything with the guys was bound to be steamy. (Pun intended. Hehe.)

I stepped in and decided to clean up, considering I was a mess. I haven't shaved in a few days, and I must always be perfectly shaved or my OCD runs rampant. I was never fully diagnosed for OCD. Just like I was never diagnosed for depression or anxiety. It didn't mean it wasn't there.

As I carefully shaved my legs, a razor blade loosened and cut a large cut up my leg. It burned. Like a b.itch. But I just gazed at it. My bright red blood was flowing heavily down my leg, and all I could do was stare. It was strangely an intoxicating sight. One I hadn't seen since before I met my mates.

They never suspect the 'perfect' ones. The 'good girls.' They have no idea. The crazy, outlandish thoughts that swallow my head whole. Never ending. Never silencing. It all hit me like a ton. All of my past misery. Everything. Being misunderstood.

I found myself taking the blade once upon each of my overly visible hip bones. I relished in the feel of the hot water on my back and the blood streaming from my open cuts. My stomach didn't growl, it new better than to. I've trained it to stay silent, to shut up when it begged for food.

I felt Arabella whining and drowning in all of our loss and sadness. The wound on my leg was healed, but my hips weren't. I heard the door burst open and my mates come in growling.

"We smelt your blood what the-"

"Baby doll are you- what the hell have you done to yourself?!" Dylan gasped out, choking as he saw my hips. I just grinned. I grinned at the world. I was okay. Couldn't they see?

"Baby, we love you. Why did you do that?!" Dylan cried.

"I'm okay, silly. I'll heal in a few minutes." I giggled at his foolishness. Why is he being so dramatic?

"Darling, stop. Stop acting all cute. We know you aren't fine." Damn. They caught me. I had to do something. It was grin or cry. I chose the first. I felt my stomach shrink just a little. Over forty eight hours without food. Arabella and I fasted together a lot, so this was simple.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Dylan said soothingly. He turned off the shower and lifted my body up and carrying me into the walk in. He picked out a soft cotton underwear set, obvious as to not disrupt my freshly healed wounds. Some pj shorts and a tank top. He dressed me like a doll, taking extra care as to not hurt me, even though I was fine.

He kneeled at my feet once he was finished dressing me. Damon did also. They examined my thighs. Damon, for once ever, looked broken. Almost as broken as I felt on the inside. He traced a few white lines that marred my body.

"How could I, how could I have not noticed." Dylan acted the same way, speechless. I looked away, feeling rejection fill me up.

"Take me home. You obviously don't want a broken doll. My back is marred with whip and knife scars, my thighs and hips are filled with self harm scars, and I'm a lunatic. Just take me home." I stated, emotionless to everything. I was going back. I shut down. Never felt a single thing.

"The broken dolls are the most beautiful and strong. Seeing them put themselves together. Act so composed. They never cry. They never hurt. It's so amazing how strong they are. Stronger than all the alphas combined. And you, our doll, is the most beautiful of all." I was touched. Just a little. His words were what I've been waiting to hear, wanting to hear for years. They peppered my thighs with kisses, wanting to heal the years worth of pain I felt.

I established to myself, I was always going to be alone. Forever alone. No matter who said they'd be there, I'd be alone. I don't know what put me in this depressing slump. Thoughts are the silent killers.

I love my mates. I will love them until the day I die. And if there is a life after that, then I will love them then. I knew that they would be there for me for anything. I could feel their raw love for me, a broken doll. I love them back. With the same amount of fiery passion. But they could never understand that I would always be alone. Always feel alone in some way.

I felt my stomach rumble just a tad. I groaned because I knew the boys felt it.

"Come on darling, let's get you fed, then we can talk." Damon offered trying to lift me up. I threw myself down, lashing out.

"I'm fine Damon. I'm not hungry." I said stubbornly. Truth was, I really wasn't hungry. I couldn't feel hunger anymore. I just ate when my body was definitely shutting down.

"No you aren't. You need to eat something. Or you're going to get weak." He fought back, even more stubborn. I glared at him, and watched as my second mate agreed.

"If that was going to happen, I would've eaten already. I will be perfectly fine for another forty eight hours." I said convincingly. "Then I need to eat something small to keep my body from shutting down." I finished, feeling satisfied with my answer.

"Baby doll, you know exactly how long you can go without eating? That isn't healthy. You have to eat three full meals a day, and also a few snacks." Dylan said, being nicer and tried to persuade me.

"If that was the truth then I would've died a long a.ss time ago. I said I'd be fine." I tried, once again.

"Are you anorexic?" Damon flat out asked. I sighed and stared defiantly.

"I have never been nor will I be diagnosed with anorexia." I stated firmly.

"Oh god, Damon, she goes weeks without food." Dylan stated, finally figuring me out.

"Why? Why do you go that long? You're beautiful." Damon asked.

"Because I used to be fat. Then I was taught a lesson that starving yourself helps. Except to learn that lesson, I was starved by another. Not by myself."

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A/N: So, cliffhanger! I had writers block but I'm back!

If there is anyone that is struggling with depression/self harm/anxiety/anorexia/bulimia, anything and you need to talk, I'm here. I know I'm a stranger, and people most can't find it in themselves to confide in anyone, put please, know that you aren't alone. I know what it feels like. The feeling may never go away. But talking dims it some. I'm here for anyone that needs me. I want to change the world.

Love you guys. All of you. 💗