Corren's Fight

Chapter Five - Misery

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My mind felt like a hornets nest as I laid on my new bed, staring up at the ceiling. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the migraine was still there. I could never sleep after thinking about the past. It had been another night where I could do nothing but remember. Some nights were better than others. Some nights I could block out everything without even trying. Other times avoiding the past required more attention at the tasks at hand. But no, not this time. This time the dam had broke, and memories were flooding in. The side of my head felt like it was being prodded with a bundle of needles. I couldn't take it anymore.

I threw off my blankets and reached over the bed to the plastic bag on the ground. It was filled with school supplies I had picked up, but I also bought a few extra things. I reached into the bag, trying to make as little noise as possible with the crackling plastic, and pulled out a handful of pencil sharpeners. It was funny how unsuspecting they were. I took a pair of scissors I had also bought and began to unscrew the bolt that held the blade in place.

As I unscrewed the bolt I couldn't decide if I wanted anyone to know. What would it change? Would difference would it make if somebody cared? It wouldn't bring Scott back and it wouldn't take away the nightmares. I was better off alone in the dark.

The bolt came loose and dropped onto the sheets. I carefully slipped out the shiny blade and put the bolt and plastic on my bedside table. With the blade pinched between my thumb and index finger, I drew it across my wrist. I felt the familiar stinging, but it didn't help. I felt robotic as I painted red slits across my wrist. It didn't relieve me like it normally did. I felt indifferent. My hands started shaking as rage appeared. Why wasn't it working? Why hadn't the release came? The word screw-up crossed my mind.

I decided I needed real pain. I forcefully dragged the blade across the skin. Blood rushed out faster than I had ever seen it before. I panicked and cursed, stumbling to the bathroom next door. I locked the door and ran my wrist under water, hissing at the sting. I rummaged through Uncle Jem's medicine cabinet until I found some gauze. I wrapped my wrist and stood there for a minute. My wrist throbbed in the silence that followed. I turned off the bathroom light and went to bed.

No one had to ask me how I was. I was miserable at best.

The erratic wailing of my alarm clock woke me up in a panic the next morning. It had been days since I needed an alarm to wake me up. It took me a moment to remember exactly why I had set it in the first place. Then I recalled Jem's words on the drive back from the market.

"You have school tomorrow," He turned the wheel,"Spring Break ended. I know I told you you'd have a few days to settle in, but the sooner you start the better. 'Sides, you'd probably have better luck finding some new friends if you start as if you've been there all along."

I didn't agree in the slightest, but I wasn't going to argue with him.

I crawled out of bed in a snail's pace and trudged to the bathroom. I unwrapped the bandaging from my wrist and threw it away. The cut had stopped bleeding, but I wasn't in the clear yet. I had gone deep. If I put too much pressure or did anything rough with it the wound would probably split open. Good thing I was right-handed. I showered and dressed then filled my backpack with some pencils and notebooks. I made sure to wrap my wrist in bandages before throwing on a jacket and heading downstairs.

Uncle Jem was sitting at the counter again, sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper. I tossed my backpack onto the counter and opened the fridge.

"Best make somethin' that's fast. We leave in twenty minutes."

"Fast my ass at seven a.m." I muttered under my breath.