Blood Stained Sweaters

Molly

Dax...Dax. The name has a nice ring to it, I guess. I think about it as I watch his car pull out of my driveway. As I think about his name, my thoughts wander to his face. His black hair sticking up messily, his bright, sea green eyes. And his lips, don't get me started on the lips. He was playing with his lip ring and it was driving me crazy. I shake my head. Stop, Molls, you shouldn't be thinking like that. I sigh and walk inside. Great, Mom is on a 'business trip' again. She could make it a little less obvious by not inviting the neighbors over for dinner every week and going 'to the bathroom'. Michael, the neighbor's husband, always has to use the upstairs bathroom around the same time. Oh the irony! Then they carpool for the business trip. There's absolutely nothing fishy there. I wish my dad would realize what's going on. Then again, maybe he does and just chooses not to acknowledge it.
"Dad, I'm home!" I call from the doorway. To my left is the fish tank and the living room door next to it. Past that is the doorway to the dining room and the bathroom just to the right of that. The kitchen is connected to the dining room by another door on the other side. To my left is the door to my parents room, well my dads room for now, and the wooden staircase that leads up to my room, the balcony, and another bathroom.
"In the kitchen." I hear my dad's voice and, after setting down my book bag, make my way to the kitchen. He has a glass of tea and looks at me sternly as I enter the room. That man is obsessed with tea.
"Who drove you home?" He asks, his voice cold.
"Just a guy from school. He saw me walking and thought it'd be dangerous, so he offered me a ride, since he was heading to the library too." His expression doesn't waver. Oh boy.
"Did he try anything?" As always, the protective parent.
"Oh my god Dad! No! Of course not. He was really sweet, actually." I smile a little and his scowl melts.
"Good. What's his name?" His tone is much more relaxed as he sips from his glass, the ice cubes clinking lightly, sounding almost like wind chimes.
"Dax." I like the way the word sounds on my lips. Almost as much as I'd like his lips on my lips. Ew, calm down brain.
"Well I want to meet him sometime."
"Dad, he drove me home. It's not like we're dating or anything. God." I roll my eyes. "I'll be upstairs if you need me." I speak over his chuckle. Dax's chuckle was so deep. I could feel it vibrate in his chest. Whoa...calm yourself brain. Something is going on. I retreat upstairs and turn on my laptop. I check Facebook and, sure enough, there are the messages I knew would appear. Well, my mood has just gone from 100 to negative whatever number you think of.
Marilyn: Kill yourself, you're such a waste of air
Jane: Just fucking die already.
Caitlin: why are you even here? can you not just realize no one wants you.
Drew: whore
Tammy: you're such a slut. Looser than a woman who had ten kids.
I feel the stabbing pain inside me with every word. Moving away doesn't help...I wish it did. All if this, all because of something I couldn't control. I open my drawer and remove the ring box. I take the ring out of the box and reach under the lining to get my razor blade. I feel the tears stream down my cheeks as I grip the blade. I pull up the sleeve of my sweater and place the blade against my skin. With a deep breath I start:
One: Marilyn
I drag the blade across and the tears fall as the blood starts beading up.
Two: Jane
I place the razor blade a bit below the first cut, avoiding the scabs from recent cuts, and drag it across. I do it again. Two cuts. Three total.
Three: Caitlin
I repeat the process three times, accepting and wrapping myself in the sting. Three total. I'm up to six now. I'm shaking now, silent sobs racking through my body.
Four: Drew
I slash across my skin four times, letting blood pool up on my pale wrist. Four cuts. That's ten total.
Five: Tammy
I slowly cut my skin five more times, then go over them again to make it deeper. Five cuts.
Fifteen...fifteen today, more tomorrow. The sting comforts me. I walk to the bathroom and rinse off my wrist in the sink, embracing the pain from the cold water seeping into the newly made wounds. I wrap my arm in a bit of gauze to clot it up, then remove it, rinse all the blood out, and roll it up again, putting it back in the cabinet. I can't raise any suspicion. I walk back to my room, sit down and slowly run my finger over the raised pink skin.
I don't realize how much time has passed by until I hear my dad's soft tapping at my door. I yank my sleeve down. "Come in." I say quietly. He steps in.
"Dinner's ready. I tried calling you, but your door was closed so I guess you didn't hear me." He smiles and I get out of my chair.
"Oh, sorry Dad, I was just thinking."
"About that boy?" He waggles his eyebrows. Even if he is serious about boys, he has a sense of humor. I laugh at him.
"No, of course not. That's crazy."
"Believe what you want." He says while walking down the stairs. I follow him and we sit down in the kitchen to eat the lasagna he made. I get a tiny portion and eat slowly. Dad looks at me funny.
"What?" I ask him, chewing my food.
"Are you not hungry?" He asks me, eyeing my small portion of lasagna.
"I just had a big lunch." I lie and continue eating. He accepts my excuse and continues eating. I finish way before he does and get up to start the dishes. I scrub the pans and bowls from the preparation of Dad's lasagna and my plate and fork, which are soon followed by Dad's. I finish and set them all in the dish dryer. By the time I finish, it's about ten, so I hug Dad good night and dash up the stairs. I get a shower and walk back to my room. As I fumble for something to wear to bed wrapped in my towel, I hear a sound from my computer. Here comes twenty one.
I sit down at my desk and check.
Facebook: You have one unread message
I click the message, ready to count again.
Dax: I'm picking you up tomorrow morning. What time?
I smile and reply to the message. At least it wasn't them again.
Me: Getting a little stalkerish now, are you?
I wait a few seconds before he replies.
Dax: You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?
Me: I hoped so. Now let me get dressed!
Dax: Maybe I should randomly message you more often ;)
Me: Maybe I should get rides from my dad more often
Dax: Fine, clothe yourself. I won't peek
I take a break to throw on some spandex and a blue tank top.
Me: Ok I clothed myself'
Dax: Good. Nudity is prohibited.
Me: I had a towel
Dax: Doesn't count
Me: Fine. I'm going to bed. Good night, stalker.
Dax: Night...erm I'll think on that nickname
I lay down in bed and think about Dax. I can't wait for tomorrow.