[4] Aiden

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I picked out a nice suit for you,

Mother lays it out on your bed,

And stands back to observe.

You barely hear her voice,

As your mind wanders to other things.

The girl you saw in the hall,

You’ve never seen before.

She was pretty,

Shy,

Hurt.

Her face.

Her arms,

Were covered in marks.

And they weren’t self-inflicted.

Not like yours.

Not like the one’s Katie saw.

You’ve been avoiding her ever since,

Scared,

Worried,

Upset,

That she’ll tell.

That your secret will be shared,

With more than one person.

What would your mother think then,

When she realizes her son,

Cuts,

Himself?

She might just kill you,

If you don’t do it first.

She would be pushed to the edge,

Where you stand,

And push you over.

She’d rather have the attention,

For a dead son,

Then the gossip,

For one who cuts.

Mrs. Snow says Sarah’s excited,

You roll your eyes,

And she slaps you.

Do not do that again!

Sarah was most definitely not excited.

She hasn’t even talked to you.

What’s that look for?

Don’t you dare tell me you don’t want to go!

You shrug,

And your Mother seethes.

I’m changing you into the son I want!

You will not ruin this event for me!

All the mother’s will be talking about it,

And I will not have you wreck it!

She slaps you again,

Just for good measure.

You’re worthless,

She spits.

And never think otherwise.

She leaves you,

Alone.

When she’s downstairs,

You head to the bathroom,

And stare into the mirror.

Who are you?

Certainly,

Not,

Aiden.

The lip piercings,

That you swore not to take out,

Are gone.

Your dad beat you,

And made you take them out,

Before he ripped them out.

The smile,

You used to wear,

Is gone.

You have nothing to smile about,

At least not at home.

School isn’t that great either,

At least while your avoiding Katie.

She was the light in you darkness.
But now your darkness has no light.

What you said to her,

Was horrible,

Atrocious,

Unnecessary.

You couldn’t believe you had said that to her,

So you hurt yourself.

You couldn’t believe she found out,

So you hurt yourself.

But now,

As you stare down at the blade,

You question why you do it.

Once,

It was to clear your conscious.

But not anymore.

Your new mindset,

Tells you that you’re not striving for any goal,

Not unless you make it death.

But did you really want to die?

Could you really leave this life behind,

As horrible as it is?

You press the cold,

Glimmering blade,

Onto your wrist.

You watch yourself in the mirror.

Could you really kill yourself?

You remove the blade,

And decide that you can’t,

At least not right now.

You do though,

Want to erase your mother’s words,

From your aching head.

So you cut,

Once for her,

Twice for her,

Three times for her.

When you’re finished,

You slide down the bathroom door,

Into a sitting position.

How much longer,

Can you put up with perfection?

When will be the day,

When you can’t take it anymore,

When you’ve had enough,

When there’s nothing left to live for?

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