Paradise City.

Chapter 51: My Super Hero.

Chapter 51: My Super Hero.

2007

¬Peasnie¬

“Why does God turn a blind eye to those children whom are suffering; having to live with a blackened mind? The innocence of a child should be left untainted. It can’t possibly be a test of faith, can it? Children don’t believe in God like they do the Tooth Fairy.”

I found it hard to open my eyes that morning; I knew it was morning by the fact that I barely got any sleep that night. I didn’t go to sleep until after midnight but I could tell it was still fairly early in the morning and everyone is still asleep. How people can be asleep now is a mystery to me. Not because my family are night owls but because I’m 100% positive my dad is talking about me to my mom. He’s telling her about how horrible of a child I am. I am such a horrible child. I deserve to die. Just like my friend from school, but he didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t deserve to suffer so badly until he committed suicide. I wish I had done more.

The mere thoughts made me toss and turn under the quilts that weighed down my bed. The heaviness in my chest forced my legs to recoil into my chest and my back to slump over so I was in a tight ball on my bed. Thoughtless tears cascaded cross my face and my breathing became heavier and quicker. How could he do this to us? How could he end his own life just like that?  No one even knew he was depressed. My mom says it’s time to move on because it’s been three months. Yes I know, three months is a long time to mourn over the loss of a friend but everybody’s acting like he never existed. I don’t care if it’s their way of dealing with it; they don’t need to act like he was never even alive. It should be me. I should be dead instead. I haven’t made that much of a dent on the world, Lucas did. I don’t have friends, Lucas did. Mom and dad don’t care for me, his parents loved Lucas. They put a savings account aside for him because he was going to go to University and become a Doctor. He wanted to help people, funny thing is; he couldn’t even help himself. I on the other hand, I can help myself but I don’t want help. I deserve to suffer, my mom, my real mom says I’m an accident and I shouldn’t be alive. But what does anybody care; I’m just a stupid girl. I’m just a stupid girl with a learning disability. I’m just another rape victim. Nothing more and I can’t be anything less considering I’m the lowest of the low. Before I got kicked out of school people made fun of me, spewing cruel names at me as the kicked me while I was down. They’re the reasons why I have these cuts up and down my arms and legs. But how could I blame them? They never held the blade to my skin and sliced it open like a child opening a present on Christmas. If I can’t blame them then I blame myself. It’s what my mother says. My real mom thinks that people with addictions have themselves to blame and she has no sympathy for them. She says nobody put that needle in their arm but them; I wanted to fight back with what if they weren’t the ones to do it? She says the same thing about rape victims; she says they obviously did something even though the men are just as liable. If she only knew what happened four years, six months two days, nine hours and twenty-three minutes ago. I bet she’ll blame me or not believe me entirely. She’ll never see the world like I do. She says she does but she doesn’t. I see the world like this horror story called me. I should be dead, not Lucas. I want to be dead.

The thought made my eyes open so I was staring at my wall. I could see the grey light of dawn skimming the pale yellow wall in front of me. The sound of my clock on my night stand ticking away was loud against my ears as I stared at the wall, nothing filling my head, sadly nothing wasn’t filling my head. It was filled with a black, something I didn’t want. My weak and tired body pulled itself up from the bed, my feet touching the surprisingly cold wooded floors. My tired mind was filled with one thing, and my body was going to do it. I moved towards my door like a zombie under mind control. My mind was blackened with a fear that penetrated my shield, the shield that I’ve kept myself in since that night. It’s protected me from everything I’ve feared.

I opened my bedroom door, letting in the brightness of the hall light. Usually the sudden change in light would force me to cringe at the sizzling in my eyes but I ignored the pain. Pain is something that hurts; you can’t hurt yourself if you feel no pain. The urges ran through me like lightning. I can’t control myself. I passed my parents’ room, their door was open and my mom was sitting at her vanity table doing her makeup nicely for her job at the warehouse. Her blue eyes caught me as I sluggishly shuffled my way by.

“Peasnie, are you okay?” She smoothly asked as she watched me with a keen eye. I stopped in my place and stared at the wood floor beneath my feet. I could feel my jaw hang down slightly and my eyes studied the slightly dirty floor, the light shaded wood was polished and cold. It had some of my little brother’s toys and laundry on it. I felt a light touch on my shoulder; my heart went into over drive, sending my mind reeling through the terrible memories. I slapped my mother’s ivory white hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” I snarled between my teeth. Her blue eyes wide with shock that I’ve just slapped her usually caring hand away from showing me affection. I don’t like being touched in the morning. I sighed heavily and turned on my heel, heading back to my room. My eyes widened when I saw a lump in my bed, a large lump. The lump started to move as I walked into my room and closed the bedroom door. A black haired boy sat up in my bed, rubbing his eyes. My heart was racing, hammering away in my chest like Thor’s hammer. I clenched my fingers in my messy hair.

“Oh my God Phil, what’re doing in my bed?” I panicked pacing around my room. Phil wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and smiled at me.

“I must’ve accidentally fallen asleep last night.” He said groggily pulling his undressed body from my bed. I cocked an eye brow at him and put my hands on my hips.

“And you just so happened to have taken off your jeans?” I asked sternly. Phil’s pale cheeks reddened brightly. I sighed and shook my head as I sat down on the bed beside him. The room was dark but it was becoming light. I had taken the bandages off so now the bright red lines were visible to everyone. My Uncles have given me the chat about how much they love me and how much they want me to stop. I wanted to tell them that it’s easier said than done, I wanted them to understand that it’s an addiction and it’s crazy and apart of recovery is relapsing. I don’t know why Phil is still friends with me or still likes me as his girlfriend. No boy likes a girl who cuts herself.

Phil placed my hand in his and laced our fingers together, the cuts were facing upward. I felt dreadful.

“How can you love me with these horrible marks?” I asked him curiously. I looked up through my bangs to see Phil shyly smile at me.

“Easily, when you love someone you love all of them, the good, the bad and the ugly.” He replied with a low voice, with his other hand he let his fingertips trace the swollen sliced skin. I furrowed my eye brows and looked up at him properly, my hair slipped behind my ear slightly.

“You love my scars?” I questioned. Phil’s smile faded and he shook his head, his finely groomed black eye brows narrowed together.

“No, I hate them. I hate what they’re doing to you. But I love the girl underneath them.” He whispered softly to me, his thumb wiped over the bumps in my skin. I smiled shyly and looked deep into his bright blue eyes. I felt drawn to him, like magnets. I leaned in until our lips collided gently. I felt my heart begin to race and flutter. Butterflies filled my stomach full. I loved the way his soft, warm lips felt on mine. They were welcoming and reassuring. I smiled as I pulled away. I had to gasp from a small breath. Phil’s pale cheeks were bright red. The evil idea popped into my head, it made a sinister smirk cross my face.

“What would you do if I screamed?” I asked curiously. Phil’s face dropped.

“Please don’t.”