(2) Self Harm, Depression & The Janoskians

Chapter 53

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The next day I found myself in a very unusual situation. I hadn't been in this situation for a while now, Luke had left and I'd been cleaning out under my bed. I had been met with a box full of something I used to go to most of the time, razor blades. I literally couldn't remember right away the last time I had cut. But the sight of them made my skin itch like it used to. Stress of the world caught up to me as old memories passed my mind. I had forgotten about the call I had got not long ago about my dads friends being after me.

One cut couldn't hurt could it? Just to get rid of the itching sensation that crawled my skin.

I was so proud of how long I had gone without cutting, but it was an old habit. And a old habit dies hard. I guess the sight of them, in the strangest way had made me want to cut.

I sat against my bed, shining the blade against the light in the room, the glint being as fresh as a brand new blade, this one hadn't been used in at least a year. My old ones had vanished and I think Luke may have been sneaking them out of the bathroom to avoid this situation.

I placed it against my skin and then pulled away. I didn't need to do this, there was no need. But there was, this old irritation in my body rushed back over me and voices in my head called to me to do it. My old habit crawling back into my mind.

I gently pushed the blade against my clear skin and sighed, taking a sharp breath, I brought it over my skin. The biggest burst and sense of pure relief sunk over me. I felt like I could breathe again, in a way I had not felt this kind of relaxation in a long time. I felt the need to do more and carried on with it a few more times before realising what I had done, I stopped threw the blade in the bin and shoved my sleeve over my wrist.

Just then a knock on my door sounded as I shouted come in, keeping the sore stinging cuts hidden by the fabric. What an idiot.

"Sorry babe. Forgot my earphones and needed them as-" he stopped as he saw me perched on the floor. "you okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Why are you on the floor?" He grinned.

"Cleaning out under the bed." I said quickly and stood up.

He nod and made his way near me to grab his headphones from the side cabinet of his side of the bed. He examined my face and furrowed his brows.

"Sure you're okay?" He asked again.

"Fine. Honestly." I grinned.

He nod and walked past me, looking back whilst he open the door to leave. "See you tonight?"

"Okay." I so wanted him to just go, in the worst way possible. I needed to clean myself up.

He looked at my body and his eyes caught something, behind me.

"April. Please explain why the fuck your white shirt, seems to be fucking leaking red."

My face seemed to feel like every bit of blood rushed out and I felt instantly sick. "It is not what it looks like."

"Lift it up."

"What?"

"Lift the fucking sleeve up.."

I did so and his face melted. He didn't utter a single word and he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

--

I sat on my bed, my head going wild at my stupid actions. How could I do that? How could I make everything go back to square one. Luke had stormed out and hadn't been answering my calls or texts all day and now I found myself in tears on my bed. The pillow had been soaked and it was all my fault.