SUNDAY
December the 11th.
14 days until Christmas.
I wake up and find myself alone on the couch. It takes a lot of energy for me to sit up. I'm so worthless.
I walk into the kitchen and see a note on the table that I don't bother to read. It's probably from Liam saying that he left early this morning.
I make my way to the bathroom and I feel like I haven't slept at all. I pass a clock on the wall and see it reads 8:00. I slept for three hours last night. I quickly pee and wash my hands. I avoid looking at my hideous deceitful face in the mirror.
I find myself in the kitchen and that's when it happens. I see it on the counter silver gleaming as the sun hits it.
I walk over and pick up a knife that never got put away after washing. I turn it in my hands and wonder if it could make me feel. If it could take some of the pain away.
I've never resorted to cutting before but then again I've never gone numb before. Except right after Max. But Jake was there to take care of me. Now he hates me because of how big of a slut I am.
I'm so god damn worthless. I'm dirty and disgusting.
I stare at the knife pondering this. Could I even do it? Could I actually cut my wrist? I run my pointer finger against the blade. I think I could.
I set it on the inside of my wrist. Wondering what it feels like. Wondering what it will bring me. Then I dig the point of it into my wrist and drag across. Small beads of blood start to form on my wrist. It starts to turn red around the cut as the blood rushes to it. It starts to burn and I realize I can feel again. I smile lightly and then make another cut right under it. This one deeper. The blood starts to run down my wrist. I stare in amazement as my blood drips between my fingers and makes splatters on the floor. A drop hits my foot. I can't see it over my belly but I felt it.
I'm watching as the drips form together, when the door opens. My head snaps up and I hide my hands behind my back.
Liam walks in and smiles sadly when he sees me. "How are you this morning?"
I shrug my shoulders. He frowns, "Still not talking?"
I shake my head. I can still feel the blood slipping between my fingers. Liam gets distracted by something on the floor and I realize it's my blood.
"Maggie, what did you do?" He says cautiously.
Then he walks over to me and pulls my hands out from behind my back. His right hand gets covered in blood as it grips my left one. He takes the knife from me puts it on the counter.
"Oh god." He gasps. "Why did you do this?" He asks me.
He grabs the napkin we dry dishes with and wraps it around my wrist.
I look at my wrist as he stops the blood from falling and I still don't speak.
I'll never speak again if I don't have too. It's my mouth that got us all into this. My mouth kissing Liams. And then telling Liam that I couldn't lie but then Jake heard us anyways. Then me telling Jenny and ruining Liams relationship. Me telling Andrew about Jenna and Jake. My big fat stupid mouth!
I imagine myself taking the knife and cutting all over my body. My arms and legs. My chest, my stomach, my face, my hands. All of me until I'm one big bloody mess.
Liam grabs my chin and makes me look at him, "Why did you do this Maggie?"
But I don't answer because I'm never talking again.
