A Nightmare's Fate

Back and Forth

Chapter Forty-seven: Back and Forth

Cutting my wrists is better than doing drugs. Maybe even better than getting drunk off my ass and starting fights. Sitting in this bathtub just confuses me even more though, because nothing makes the pain go away. I still think of Kenton and the way how he destroyed my insides, my emotions. I think of Errik and how he kept such a deep secret from me, how much agony he’s caused me.

            I don’t understand anything anymore.

            The pain in my arm makes my whole body twitch, but I try to ignore it. Glancing downwards to the water, I realize it’s a dark red. Blood, I think. So much blood.

            Curling up with my knees up to my chin, I wrap my arms around my legs. Drugs couldn’t make anything better, it’s like drinking where you wake up again in the morning and you remember everything terrible in your life. But how is cutting better than that? I say in my mind. How could such a painful thing end up being content and making your life better?

            My answer: it doesn’t. To me, cutting is something that just allows the pain to slowly leave my body, but no matter what, I’m left with scars. My life is depressing, I think.

            Quietly sobbing, hoping no one hears my soft cries, I bend my head on my knees and stroke my leg with my right palm. I wish nothing in life ever happened to me like meeting Kenton. If I never met him, I wouldn’t have gone into depression. I would have never met Errik. I wouldn’t be where I am right now. My life would be different; completely diverse.

            Rising my head up, I pull out the plug for the drain and get out; wrapping myself in a towel. As the water drips off of me, I can feel every drop on my body, which makes different parts itchy; like my legs and the back of my neck, especially with my wet hair. Hoping to not get the towel wet with the blood, I quickly take it off and put on my bra and long sleeve shirt with underwear and a pair of jeans. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, so the long sleeve will help you.

            Opening the door to the guest bedroom, I see Freddy sitting on the bed with a very sad facial expression. At first, everything is quiet. Not a sound is made between the both of us. It isn’t until I throw the dirty clothes into the hamper and lick my lips as I sit down beside him.

            “Errik wants to talk to you; I told him I have to ask you first. I didn’t want to say a definite answer if things go bad.” He keeps his head still, basically just bending down towards the brown carpet for which makes color in this dim room, or at least what it feels like to me.

            “I don’t wanna see him,” I say; angst rising in my veins, blood boiling within me. “He screwed my life up.”

            “Honestly, it was Kenton that screwed your life up. He made you get into this position,” he calmly says, but I can tell that he wants to punch something, or most likely someone.

            “Just shut up!” I screech with my voice as high as it can go. But even though I want him to not say a word about Kenton, I can’t blame him for wanting to punch the guy. I’d smack Kenton in a heartbeat, if he was still alive. For what he has done to me, how confused he’s made me, how crazy I’ve gotten; he needs a good smack in the face with a metal chair.

            “For what it’s worth, Ray, I think you should see Errik before we leave in two days.” He then stands and leaves the room. I’m left feeling a small sense of guilt in the pit of my stomach, knowing I do want to see him but wishing he could just go away.