Tw: sh, sh scars, mention of death
My eyes cracked open. Sunlight shone through the see through curtains in my room. I glanced at my phone. No message at all. One could say, I should be used to this feeling by now, but I am not. It still hurt.
My mind was slipping down the slide and I was caught up in my negative, but save space.
Do it. You'll feel so much better.
I knew it wasn't true. I never felt better, but in some way... I did. There was something about this pain, that made me feel like I was in a rush. My heart beat quickened and when that faded a little, I was calm.
Do it.
It only took this last bit for me to get up. Just this little phrase, was needed and I was roaming through my drawers in the bathroom, searching for that small metallic blade. Not only half a minute later, the piece of metal laid in my hand palm. I pulled my sleeping shorts up, revealing my whole thigh.
On the very top were some of my oldest scars. My fingers slid above the rougher skin. It was oddly comforting to feel the scars, in a way no one would understand it. I am probably just insane.
I set the blade onto my skin, feeling it's coldness. My mind was telling me to do it. Now, that I had pulled out the blade anyway, I should just do it. I'm no coward. So I set the corner of the blade on my skin and pulled it from left to right. A really familiar noise reached my ears. A scratching. The noise of my skin being torn open. It would make me puke, if it didn't make me feel all those other things. A small horizontal line was on my thigh. I eyed the cut. The blood didn't set in for a few moments, it was white-ish, but when the blood formed, I exhaled deeply and relieved.
I pulled a little on my skin, straightening the surface, before I used the blade again. Four lines were added and I watched as the blood slowly slid down my thigh. Satisfied and calmly, I placed the blade on my sink and grabbed a clean tissue, gently wiping the blood away. It's like a drug. Like my cigarette. My joint, if you want. What others use as a legal or illegal drug, to calm their nerves, is my blade to me.
Still in my adrenaline rush, I searched for a bandage in the cabinet underneath the sink. None of my thick ones were in there.
At least I was in no need to leave the apartment.
My rush, was soon over and I had found a thin bandage, which I had gently wrapped around my thigh, before I went back into my bed. Groaning, I turned onto my other side. The stinging set in. It was relieving, yet slowly it was guilt, that creeped into my mind.
My eyes grew heavier and I was about to drift off into sleep, perhaps I even did. Last night I was up for way too long and I slept in till noon, however my rest was interrupted, by the ringing sound of my phone.
Who ever calls, will soon give up or call again in an hour or something. The call soon ended and I exhaled exhausted.
Once gain, when I was about to fall asleep, my phone rang again.
What if it's an emergency?
I shifted in my position and excepted the call, without looking at the screen. I placed the phone on my ear and waited for the other person to start.
"I'm so sorry, Vera." My eyes grew wide, as I heard her voice. "I know you are not working yet, but I need to ask you a favor. If I could ask someone else, I would do it, but I really cannot." Cate voiced out in an almost pleading way.
I leaned onto my elbow and hissed quietly. "It's fine." I mumbled. "What is it?"
"Did I wake you up?" She chuckled softly, which made me smile weakly.
YOU ARE READING
The Babysitter
Fanfiction{English is not my first language} Just a job, right? That's what Veronica thought as well, but this "job" turned out to be so much more, than just a simple occupation she needed for money. It was a certain someone, who changed that. Yet, past is...
