CUT

Chapter 1

I was awake.

My head laid on my pillow, my eyes wide open. I look at the clock beside me.

2:21 a.m.

I just have to hold up till 6 a.m. I go back to staring up at the ceiling.

I used to try to sleep a lot. I tried everything, sleep pills, tiring myself out, and drinking special tea. Nothing worked because my dark memories overpowered them. 

I look at the plain white ceiling. Stare at it, trying to empty my mind. It works sometimes. I look at the clock.

2:30 a.m.

Time is moving really slow. I just wish it could be daytime 24 hours a day. I would really like that, even if it meant more school.

2:31 a.m.

I can't just sit here and wait. I have to do something. Sleeping was a bad idea, so I went downstairs for a glass of water. 

I take a cup out of the cabinet and fill it up with water from our sink. I look up at the kitchen clock.

2:35 a.m.

I take a sip of water and sit down on the kitchen table. I hear footsteps behind me.

"Couldn't sleep?" I hear a voice ask.

I turn around and there stood Brian, my sister's husband.

I nod.

"Yeah, me too," He says. "Just a little restless."

I'm not surprised. Brian is the kind of person that can't stay in one position too long or he'll go crazy. It's an anxiety thing.

I turn back around and face front. I take a sip of my water. Brian sits in the chair next to me. I glance at the clock.

2:42 a.m.

"So let's talk a little," Brian says. "Maybe it will tire us out and we could go to sleep."

That won't happen.

When I don't say anything, he just starts talking.

"How's school?" Brian asks.

Classic adult-child conversation starter.

"Good," I say.

I glance at the clock.

2:49 a.m.

"Are your grades alright?" he asks.

Yeah, they're going great! I'm a straight A student with all Honors classes. I'm the best in my grade.

"Fine," I say.

"Good, it's nice to have good grades," Brian says.

I look at the clock.

2:53 a.m.

Time is going way too slow. I suddenly regret coming downstairs. There is now an awkward silence between us. I take a sip of my water to busy myself.

"It's getting pretty late," Brian says. "We should get to bed. I have work and you have school tomorrow."

Too restless sitting in that chair for a couple of minutes, Brian?

I nod. Finally a way to escape. I get out of my chair, rinse my cup and put it in the dishwasher.

"Sleep well." Brian says. 

That's not gonna happen.

I walk upstairs and get into bed. I glance at the clock.

3:10 a.m.

I look up and go back to staring at the ceiling.

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I am sitting at my desk in my honors chemistry classroom. My teacher is explaining a topic I already know all about.

I don't do much when I'm home, and I'm home most of the time. So I always study and study and study. Since I have so much free time, I read all of my textbooks over and over, making sure I know every single concept front and backwards. 

That's exactly why I know everything there is to know about this lesson. But, of course, I'm paying attention and vigorously taking notes on everything the teacher says. I take notes so I can review and review them when I'm at home.

"To dissect the frog you must make incisions in certain places...." My teacher Mr. Henries says.

I glance at the clock.

3:25 p.m.

5 minutes till the bell rings. 5 minutes till I have to get up from my seat and go on my walk home.

I watch the teacher, who is pointing out parts of a frog on a diagram shown on the board. Around the room, students have their backpacks on, and are ready to bolt as soon as the bell rings. I glance at the clock.

3:29 p.m.

Only a couple of seconds till the bell. I don't dare pack up my things. I just keep jotting down every single word Mr. Henries says.

Brrrrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnng!!!!!!!! 

All the students rush out of class as if they're extremely late for something.

I start packing up my things when - Bang!

My textbook and journal are bumped to the ground by a careless student trying to get out of here.

I sigh and pick up my things. 

I walk out of the school building and into the breeze of fall in Philadelphia. While walking I saw a park, and a couple of joggers jogging on the track. 

I start thinking about a time when I used to run track in middle school. I was the best on the team and I loved to run. But I stopped after that night.

No! The dark memories start seeping in my head. The misery started taking over.

I started running. I had to get to the house. I have to get it done so I can forget. Block the pain I felt that night. The misery.

As soon as I get to our condo, I ran straight to the bathroom and went through my backpack for my secret set of 'tools'.

I take out a razor blade and pull up my sleeve. I slice my wrist.

The second the blade cut skin, the physical pain took over. No more misery, no more memories. For now.

I look down at the bloody cut on my wrist. Then I wash it off.

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