Trauma vs Love

Chapter 5

Of course, someone had to knock on the door at this moment when life was about to end. Wiping my face to get rid of the tears bubbling down my cheeks, I shoved the broken glass to the corner of the kitchen. I shoved on a light grey oversized shirt with matching bottoms. The door knocked again indicating me to hurry up. Opening the door, a fake smile spreads across my face to greet the person who so rudely interrupted my attempt.

"Hey, are you busy or anything? I'd love to talk to you for a little bit." It was Hendrix. Why out of all moments did he have to knock on the door now?! It's not like I would say yes to spending time with him anyway. Not now at least. "Sorry, I'm really tired and busy so no you cannot come inside." The fabric of my clothing brushed against the open wounds like a soft breeze. It felt like sharp needles digging into me repetitively. He soon left closing the door behind him making me feel relieved that he didn't suspect anything. I  walked back to the kitchen and sat back down on the floor. Grabbing another shard, my eyes started to fill with water knowing if I gave in, this would be the end. The pain would end along with me. Yet for some reason, my mind kept pulling me back. It felt like someone pushing your head under the water and only bringing you back up to the surface when you are so close to dying.

Just as I was about to give that one final slash across my awaiting neck, my mind filled with memories of my family and my sister. Their smiling faces when we see each other at events or happy days. Their warm embraces welcoming me and congratulating my successes as an undeveloped author. God can it just stop! it's too painful to think about them while doing this. Releasing the shard of glass, tears streamed down my face burning my flesh. Coping has been so difficult to manage. The idea of giving up seems much easier than fighting to stay alive. Those stupid pills the doctors put me on to try to manage my depression don't seem to be working. Then again, I never really took them often or on schedule. I began to sob in my arms. My body curled up into a tight ball on the kitchen floor as darkness came.

Not an ounce of rest was put into my body that night.

All night I was either sobbing or simply laying on the floor feeling numb. My head began to pound like a drum. All that therapy mom made me deal with to get over this constant mental pain just for it to come rushing back in a single day. This isn't the first time this has happened but it still hurts knowing all that effort was done for nothing. Climbing into bed, I practically collapsed on top of the covers. My body felt weak mostly from the blood loss and lack of sleep but it was fine. I slammed my eyes shut and attempted to get some rest.

The gentle ray of light travelled through the window into my closed eyes instantly waking me up. I refused to leave my bed despite getting the rest needed. No eating or drinking water or showering. Just lying in bed feeling completely numb to all emotion. Tears would occasionally trickle down my dry skin but they wouldn't relieve any pent-up stress deep inside. Those stupid fucking antidepressants aren't helping at all. My phone began to buzz indicating a text message. Why the fuck will this dickhead not leave me alone?!

Hendrix: "Hey do you wanna go out somewhere together? It doesn't have to be anything fancy."

Faeyth: "Go fuck yourself and stop pretending that you care."

Hendrix: "What is your problem!?"

Faeyth: "Just fuck off."

I turned my phone off and set it down to the side.

"I'm not sure why he's acting like he gives a shit" I mumbled loud enough to be heard. My head continued throbbing painfully. "Well, that's probably because I do give a shit about you. We may not know each other that well but that doesn't mean we can't be friends." How the fuck did he get inside my apartment!? this prick is always appearing like a bug inside someone's home. "You need to lock the door behind you." He grabbed my key from the side of my bedside table and placed it next to me. "You need to not walk into random people's homes and stop being a creep." my voice sounded shaken or wobbly. I refused to give him eye contact or look in his direction so he couldn't see my current mental state. "Sure, I'm such a creep for checking up on you and making sure you learn how to lock your door." he didn't try to hide his sarcasm like last time when we spoke which only pissed me off more. Who does he think he is trying to play Prince Charming and trying to save me? "Get out you piece of shit." He ignored my comment and stayed which caused anger to build up more. 

Hendrix sat down on the bed beside me and looked at my hidden face. "You should be taking your antidepressants on schedule. Unless you just got a refill there is no reason why they should be full. I saw the way you were covering your thigh when we spoke last night. Don't take me for an idiot." His voice sounded assertive as if he was attempting to instruct me to take my medication. He doesn't know anything about my past and at this rate, he will never find out. "How do you know that they are antidepressants? they could be for headaches or migraines for all you know." I scoffed while glaring at him with attitude. "Well, it says right on the label that they are antidepressants and I recognize the packaging." His eyes moved down to the covers on my bed.  "I bet you didn't know that I was trying to kill myself last night." That sounded incredibly manipulative of me to say to him considering people have used suicide threats on me in the past but it's too late to change what I said.

"You are right, I didn't know you were planning to kill yourself. I knew you were going through some shit last night and maybe I should have stayed but you refused to let me come in to talk so I just left because arguing seemed pointless." Why did his words seem so genuine? The moment he figures out my past he will stop being so kind to me and most likely try to avoid having contact with me again. That's what they all do at least. Hendrix stood up, walked to my kitchen, and disappeared. This shocked me a little bit as I didn't suspect he would walk into my kitchen for any reason. My sorry ass followed behind him due to curiosity. He began cleaning up the glass shards which made me feel very confused. Why would he clean up a mess made by me? Is this his attempt at trying to win me over just because he cleaned something up? "I'm not sure how much you have been hurting yourself or how you do it but you should clean them. I have some bandages if you need any." My thigh ached hearing those words come out his mouth. 

"We barely know each over and you're helping me, what do you want in return a blowjob?" I said this with the intent of being humorous and as an attempt to offend him. He winked which caused me to scoff at his reaction. He began to chuckle quietly. "Just kidding, I know you're joking." He carried the broken pieces of glass to the trashcan and used my vacuum cleaner to clean up the pieces missed. "Just so you know, I appreciate this but it will take a lot more than this to win me over." I crossed my arms only to wince from the cuts on my chest. "You keep thinking that I'm going to screw you over or we are never going to be friends but that isn't the case." He wants me to trust him but why? out of all the other guys in my life why is he any different to how they treated me? that can't be the case. "Like I said it will take a lot more than this to win me over." my face screwed up with annoyance while he smirked in response. Hendrix walked up to me and whispered in my ear "Then I'll do whatever it takes."