Lost | C.H. Fanfic | Complete

Chapter 17

And the day went by in a flash, turning my good mood into a bad mood as I realized that I had to go home.

I walked down the sidewalk, on my way home. If you can call it a home. After the twenty minutes it takes to walk back, I arrived on the doorstep of what I call hell. I opened the door with a deep breath and entered the house.

"I'm home..." I called cautiously, setting my bag down by the coat hanger. Just then, I saw my uncle walk into the lounge wherein was standing, a look on his fave that I can only describe as evil. "Welcome home Jessica" he said. "I'm sure as you know, your aunt and sister are away. So you and I have the house all to ourselves" he said slowly as if to let that, and all it entailed, sink in.

"Yeah...I know" I said softly. "Well then I guess you know what's coming don't you?" He said with a smirk. "You're a sadist you know that? You actually enjoy inflicting pain on other-" I started, a look of defiance on my face, but my sentence was interuppted by a fist punching me in the face. I fell to the ground, mostly in surprise, even though this situation had happened so many times before.

"Dont talk to me like that little girl!" My uncle spat as he kicked my stomach. "You're a disappointment you know?" He carried on with his usual script, throwing in a couple of kicks and whips with a belt.

You're a disappointment, useless, you deserve this, blah blah blah. Always the same, I could practically recite the whole dialogue myself. Once he was done I was sent to my room, as always and I stayed there, staring blankly at the wall as tears rolled down my cheeks.

He's right and you know it. A little voice said. You are pathetic and useless, just like he said. And you most definitely do deserve this. The little voice was right. I do deserve this. I deserve to suffer. I never do well in school, I'm so shy I'd rather sit alone than have to talk to someone. I'm a terrible person. A waste of oxygen. The only reason I'm still here is because of Lily.

I got off my bed and made my way to the bathroom, the familiar feeling of getting the razor out and clutching it in my hands filling me with a sort of happiness. This is the only thing I'm good at. Harming myself.

But what about Calum? What would he say if he knew that i was about to do it again. Stay strong they'd said. Well I doubt they really even care. They were just sorry for me. And i hate sympathy.

So, I dug the razor into my skin and pulled it across my wrist, watching as the blood bubbled to the surface almost immediately. Another cut. And another. Until there were eight identical cuts running along my arm.

Most people don't know why people self harm. They think its for attention or we cutters just enjoy the pain. But no, it's usually about control. Well at least that's what it's like for me. Everything else in my life may be totally screwed up, but I control this. I control everything about it. The depth, the length, the number, all of it. And it gives me a sense of comfort, knowing I control it.

So eventually I fell asleep and woke up the next morning, the cuts starting to form scabs. I got ready for school and made my way to the front door, ready to leave when I remembered the science project. Shit.

"Um Uncle...I have a group science project and I need to go to someone's house on Friday so we can work on it. Is that okay?" I asked my uncle when I found him in his office. "Whatever I don't care but be home by seven or I will beat you harder than I've ever beaten you. Got it?" He asked angrily. I nodded and turned around, leaving for school.

The week flew by quickly and I started to pick up a pattern. I'd go to school and be in a good mood when I was around the boys. Then I'd come home and be beaten and go up to my room at night at cut and then I'd go to sleep before doing it all over again. I'd gotten really close with the boys and I'd convinced them that I'd stopped cutting by cutting on my stomach and legs instead of my arms. I'd especially become close with Calum and I sometimes had to scold myself for getting lost in daydreams about him and me.

What was I thinking? I have to get boys out of my head. Especially boys like Calum Thomas Hood. He would never in a million years be anything more than my friend. If even a friend. He was probably being nice because that's the person he is.

I can't like the boy who will never be anything more than that boy who saved me that night. And maybe that's why I'm falling for him. Wait what am I saying? I can't be falling for him. I'm not falling for him. No.

I'm not falling for Calum Hood...