Band-Aids On Bruises

Dreams

I smile softly as I watched Fisher walk down the street towards his house, waving goodbye to me. Then, when he twists his body forwards to focus on where he is going, I let my smile fade.

If only I could tell him. I had hidden my feelings pretty well, pretending to be concerned with the judgements of those stupid girls, but that is not the case. I just couldn't bear to tell Fisher the truth, the real reason I had been depressed.

I couldn't tell him that every time I was close to him, touched him, or wanted to kiss him, that memories of Tyler flooded back into my brain at those moments.

When I had held his hand to pull him away from those girls, all I could think about was his grip being replaced by Tyler's, Brad's or Nick's, and pinning me down.

If I looked into his eyes, I couldn't hold his gaze because whenever I did, I saw Tyler looking back at me while he tugged his shirt off.

And when Fisher had kissed me, my heart exploded with joy, but when he pulled away, for a moment I saw Tyler there instead of him.

I shivered, and turned my back to Fisher's figure disappearing in the night. I walked to the kitchen, where I saw my mum pacing around it while talking on the phone. She saw me, and gave me a sympathetic look. Whatever she was talking about was not good.

I quickly escaped to my room, trying to avoid filling my mind with more troubling thoughts. When I got there, I dashed to my bed and threw myself under the covers, not caring about getting mud everywhere.

I wanted the escape of sleep, but it had not been coming to me. Every night I was plagued with nightmares. Each one recreating a scene from the party with added horribleness.

I shuddered again, trying not to think about the nightmares and just to relax my mind to allow myself to sleep. Nothing worked though.

An hour had passed, and I then gave up. I trudged to the bathroom to rid myself of the mud that was caked on me.

I stood underneath the hot water pouring from the showerhead for a long time. I tried and tried to remove the terrible thoughts and memories from my head, but with no avail.

'You're pathetic.' I told myself 'You can't even move on from the past.' I then felt cold water drip down my face. I was crying again. I angrily wiped the tears off my cheeks. 'Look at you, you can't even go a couple of hours without crying.' my brain spat at me.

I groaned and rubbed my hands against my forehead. Will I ever be able to move on from the past? Probably not.

I turned the shower handle, and the water ceased from lightly hitting my back. I sighed as I stepped out onto the floor mat and wrapped a towel around myself, averting my eyes from the mirror. I didn't want to see myself like this.

I gazed around the bathroom for something to take my mind off of everything that was troubling me. My gaze then rested on a razor that was sitting innocently on the counter.

'Pain could make it all go away.' my head told me. I found myself reaching for the razor, then realised what I was doing. I slapped myself, then scurried out of the bathroom and the razor back to the safety of my bedroom.

I grabbed my phone and sat on the floor to distract myself from the awful idea that had been in my brain a second ago.

I sat there for an hour, until I was fully dry. Then, I changed into my pyjamas and threw the wet towel into my laundry hamper.

I was just getting settled into bed to attempt sleep once again, when I heard a knock on my door.

My mum entered, after I told her she could come in, with sad look on her face. I gazed up at her, not even having to ask her what was wrong due to the confused look on my face.