Erin [editing]

THIRTY-FIVE| why am i bleeding

"You're going to be late!" Harry yelled from downstairs for the hundredth time.

I groaned and shook my head, it's not like he can see me though. I heard his footsteps which made me bury my head deeper into my duvet.

"You have to go to school. I don't care how upset you are," said Harry.

My stomach turned and I groaned. "I don't feel good."

"Don't give me this crap this early in the morning," Harry huffed.

I groaned and sat up. It's so fucking hot! My stomach turned into knots again and I groaned clenching it.

He gave me a look. "Are you serious this time?"

"Does it look like I'm fucking joking?" I groaned.

Harry shook his head. It's true, I feel terrible today for some reason. My stomach feels like shit and my head is dizzy. What the hell is going on with me? Am I dying? I sure as hell hope not! Maybe because I cried all last night and I think I had a panic attack, but I'm not sure. Why the hell is it so hot?!

Last night after dinner, I ran up to my room and into my bathroom. It's been so long since I've ever cut my wrists. The blood trickled down my arm and I had to wrap it myself. I cleaned it with alcohol which made it sting, but I love the sting. Sometimes I wish that the razor would just kill me. I wish it'd just take me away from all the pain. I wish it'd just take me home, back where I belong before any of this shit happened. Sure, home wasn't good, but it's better than the pain I'm feeling now.

I texted Wyatt yesterday when I remembered, he was worried sick. We FaceTimed from Gray's phone last night because he wanted to show me Grayson. Wyatt had cleaned him up and changed his clothes, even though Wyatt's clothes didn't match with Grayson's personality. Grayson was sleep the entire time, though. I think Wyatt drugged him up on something, he is a drug lord. Wyatt drove him home last night too, he told his parents he was in a fight at school and he fixed him up. His parents were thankful, says Wyatt.

"I'll bring your breakfast up. Just stay in bed today then," said Harry.

He gently patted my head and went downstairs. I groaned and pulled my sleeves up. I can't let him see the scars, but it's so fucking hot. They're bad this time, really bad. I winced every time I'd accidentally touch them. I shouldn't have done this, I'm so fucking stupid! But I'm so fucking weak. I'm so physically weak and mentally unstable to properly handle the situation that went down yesterday. I had to cut myself, I had to. I pulled my sleeves back down when I heard Harry coming into my room.

"Here," said Harry as he came back up the stairs and into my room with a tray of porridge.

"I don't want it," I groaned.

Harry sighed and put my breakfast on my nightstand. He sat on my bed and looked at me with his eyebrows furrowed like they always seem to be.

"What?" I asked.

"What?" He mimicked.

"Stop staring at me." I said.

"Okay," Harry said. "Are you alright? What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"Erin–"

"Harry," I warned.

He sighed and stood. He stayed standing in the same spot for a few seconds before starting to walk towards the door. Before he left, he turned around and stared at me again.