Bracelets // Mgc

Thirty (tw)

The sides were ragged, torn edges in the metal made specifically for cutting, but maybe not in this manner. It wasn't new, not at all. I've had it a couple weeks, the other was thrown out cause if I had too many, the boys would find out. I didn't want that.

I eyed my scared wrist, a couple of bracelets left. One was mine, a simple black braided bracelet that I bought online. The last was a simple blue chord, a single white bead with an A on it cause this was Aleigha's.

I stopped spinning the blade, staring at the bracelet long and hard. My eyes caught the shiny metal, and I ran my finger gently over one of the serrated sides. I didn't hurt myself, my touch too gently to tear skin.

I wanted to though, oh god did I want to.

The interview was shit, a majority having to do with girls. They mainly talked to Ashton and Luke, occasionally Calum, while he ignored me all together. The studio was shit cause my ideas got continuously shot down for being too dark or too preppy. My riffs weren't good enough apparently either.

"We're not that kind of band!"

I rolled my eyes, tears filling my eyes as I stared at the blade. I wasn't good enough for the band. My riffs were too 'generic'. Too 'predictable'. My lyrics weren't even given a second thought, just written down in a journal full of crap we never even look at after it's down. I was practically invisible on the interview. The only time I talked was when Calum asked for my opinion or quietly asked me if I was alright.

I'm not.

I lifted my wrist up, bringing the blade close to my skin. However, when the metal touched my wrist, the blue bracelet slid down, stopping right where the blade pressed down. It didn't break skin, I didn't press it that hard, but you can see the slight indents of where the sharp edges pressed down.

A small voice in my head told me to do it, to press it that much harder and swipe it. It told me that I deserved it, I deserved to finally be given attention, even if it was from an inanimate object.

But another voice in my head said that I shouldn't. It told me I was better than this, that I didn't have to do this to myself to feel better, to feel like I matter.

I gulped softly, the blue bracelet seeming more intimidating then the blade itself. I pulled the weapon away, small indents on my skin from where the razor was.

"I can't." I said brokenly and kicked the blade away, standing up immediately and slamming my bathroom door shut.

I shook my head and wiped my eyes as I sat down on my bed. I tapped my fingers against the mattress, looking down at the floor as I thought.

Why couldn't I do it? Of all times, why now?

I saw a small red corner peek out from under my bed and I picked it up, revealing a journal with my name on it. I took a deep breath and flipped it open to the last page I stopped on.

"This isn't an entry, but a poem I wish to share with you. It helped me a lot, and I hope it helps you, if you even get to read this. I wrote it but... but it's not that good, sorry."

I looked at the top of the page and then my eyes dropped a couple of lines to see the beginning of the poem. It was kind of long, and the first few lines took me by surprise.

"Untitled

Looking in the mirror
Nothing is as it seems
A smile tugging on your lips
But clawing at your throat is a scream

Laughing loudly with your friends
Ignoring the hurt booming in your chest
The joke hit harder than you'd dare admit
But you play it off like a simple joke with the rest

But you're so much more than your lies
You're so much more than your desire to die

With a heart as cold as ice
And a mind as wild as fire
Take a chance and roll the dice of life
Keep walking on that thin wire
Because you don't give yourself the credit you deserve
When will you ever learn?

You're looking down at a number scale
Your heart is inside your throat
The number has dropped drastically since before
Because you didn't do what the doctor wrote

Your silver buddy you love so much
It trembles as it touches your skin
And it presses down uncomfortably tight
Now it's a fake cat you've gotta pin

But you're so much more than your pretty façade
You're so much more than your feeling of being lost

With a body as weak as straw
And a will as strong as a brick
Stop counting every little one of your flaws
Because all the clock is going to do is tick
I know it's hard to change what you do now
But you need to stop before you're inside of the ground"

The sound of my heart actually shattering could be heard as my finger slid down the side of the book, ready to shut it. It hurt. I don't know why, but reading the poem hurt me.

Maybe it's cause I know what I do is bad and I feel guilty for doing it. Maybe because whenever I remember that Aleigha has gone through hell and back, it just makes me sad. Maybe it's cause I want to get better but refuse to take the extra step in doing so. Or maybe it's because she believes I can get better and I'm just giving her reasons to think otherwise.

I don't know why it hurt, but it did, though that didn't stop me from reading it over and over again and posting a single line from it on Twitter, quoting it and ending it with the pen emoji.

"You don't give yourself the credit you deserve ✒"