Elimination

4: Kellin

TW
SELF HARM
I will mark where it starts and ends.
Love you.
************

I. Hate. School. They expect us to succeed: to go to college, get an average job, get a wife, have kids, then retire with a buttload of cash. But that's not what I want. I mean, I'm really not sure what I want, but it ain't that cookie-cutter life.

I contemplate this as I run through the never ending halls of the place, Alex Gaskarth in tow. Honestly, he probably feels the same way, but I never bothered to ask; I'm not one for "deep" conversation.

So I contain hating my existence solemnly, hoping that one day, someone else might understand, might know how to stop these thoughts. Part of me wishes for this, but a larger part of me knows I'll always be this way. I'm stuck in a perpetual downward spiral, a vortex, and don't plan on coming out anytime soon.

As I float to the next class on my cloud of numbness, tripping every living thing in my wake, I see a familiar face. Vic Fuentes. I stop in my tracks, leaving Gaskarth to crash into my back. "Come on, Kells," he shouts, "why?" He rubs his head.

"Sorry!" I exclaim, turning to the boy. I straighten out my wrinkled jacket and pull the sleeves back over the heels of my hands. Alex laughs, slapping my back in a loving, painful way. I wince edging away.

Gaskarth looks up at me. "Fuentes?" he blatantly asks, wiggling his eyebrows and nodding his head towards the smaller boy. I gulp, opposing the sweat on my brow, and the idea of tripping Vic Fuentes. There's something about him, I'm just not quite sure what. I just have some weird feeling about him that I can't place. In fact, I'm not sure if I want to know, so I lock it up in my safe of a brain and try to tell myself it's nonexistent. That never succeeds, but it's worth a try, I guess, unlike anything else. . . .

"I dunno, Alex, what if he, like, tells Satan to materialize in my room tonight?" I joke, actually considering that presumption. It's plausible, I guess. Definitely not improbable. Alex raises an eyebrow.

"What, you scared, Quinn? That's not like you, man. You just tripped a dozen kids back there! One girl even fell into another and they both toppled!" He nudges me violently and I push him back, creating a small disturbance around us. The crowd finally settles, but, by then, Gaskarth has just begun dragging me through it, bumping into numerous people along the way. I'm yelling at him now, screaming profanities as loud as I can. Some heads turn, many of them stare, but that doesn't really bug me. I'm used to this shit, plus, I've got nothing to lose at this point. I bet I won't even live to be a senior.

Then, suddenly, everything is happening at once, snapping me out of my head. Those thoughts dissipate, leaving me with an empty mind and chaos around my body. Vic falls to the ground, and Alex ducks behind me, laughing like the idiot he is. I scowl at him and try to help the kid off the floor, but Alex grabs my wrists and I scream (more like banshee-screech, but whatever), shaking him off me.

Sending Vic a sympathetic grin, I pull my sleeves up over my hands completely, and my smile fades as Alex catches up to me again. Vic glares and looks away quickly, so I do the same. Alex comes up behind me and punches me in the arms. I cringe and shove him away, darting to my locker, which luckily isn't too far from where I was. The stampede of teenagers falls behind me, and I find myself alone in the restroom. As I splash the chilled water on my face, the world seems more in-focus, almost. I feel a bit more alive. But not enough. Never enough.

*TW

My hands survey my pockets, searching for something familiar. I feel an oddly satisfying prick, and grasp the thin metal, glancing into the reflections of my dead eyes before locking myself in a stall.

I close the toilet lid and take out the blade. It's smooth and cool to the touch. Holding it near my face, I observe it closely, get to know it a bit better before plunging it into my skin. It gleams like an ornament, but don't be fooled. This thing's fucking deadly.

The pain is sharp at first, then it just stings a bit. This odd hurt keeps me going. It urges me to keep moving forward.

So, I do it again.

Watching as tiny red beads form over the slashes, I sigh, loving the sensation, embracing it. I'm reluctant to quit, but I need to get to math so this day will end. One of these days, all of it will end, or so I hope. We don't need any more disgusting human beings on this planet, and I am no exception.

I clean off the wounds and make a strange makeshift bandage out of medical tape I keep with me and some toilet paper, which I've never used on this occasion score. I silently pray that the cuts won't get infected, but then I remember I don't care.

*TW END

That only took me a few minutes, which was ideal. Didn't want anybody getting suspicious. God only knows what people would do if they saw them.

I immediately rush into math, eighth period, a bunch of those guys jumping all over me. I see Vic glancing my way, which makes me want to repeat that bathroom ordeal at least ten more times.

After spending the entire class practically asleep, the bell rings and all these kids flood the hallways. Making my way to the final doors, the ones that lead outside, not wondering whether or not I have homework, simply because I don't fucking care.

My arm continues to burn as I walk home, head down, remembering all the horrible things I've done in my short sixteen years of life. There's a crash. Thunder. And the storm begins. Hey, maybe the water is good for me. It'll hide my tears.

************
Once again, thank you.
If anybody's going through something, I want you to talk to me. You've heard it before, and you'll probably hear it a thousand more times, but here it is:
IT
GETS
BETTER.
I never thought it would. I always thought that everyone around me could fix themselves and I couldn't. I just . . . couldn't.
But, one day, one week, actually, it really hit me that it would never end unless I did something about it.
I started eating healthier, going out, spending more time on schoolwork, inviting people over . . . and it distracted me. It was a good distraction, and it really helped. It took time, but I found myself much happier and looking at life in a different way.
Now, I some amazing friends, and we're always there for each other. I told one of my friends about what happened just last night (maybe I'll elaborate someday) and she took it very, VERY well. I'm so thankful for the people and things in my life that give me joy.
I'm sure music and band members help a lot of you. Shayley Bourget is my hero, and always will be (he makes an appearance in this story, too :3). I hope you find people you can look up to and make you happy.
I know, this is pretty lengthy, so I'll end with this.
Focus on things that you enjoy.
No matter what's going on in your life, I'm sure you'll make it out okay. You just have to believe in yourself.
Try not to give in. You'll have a bad day, or a bad week, maybe even a bad month. That doesn't mean things will stay that way.
Even if you think things aren't going to change, THEY ARE! I assure you!
Don't forget to love yourself. I really care about you.
Have a lovely day. <3