You're My Last Hope (Under Edit)

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

One of the rare times I was awake in science, I learned that, when you don't get enough seep, your mind starts to hallucinate. Maybe that's why I was feeling mom's hand stroke my hair and Max's arms wrapped safely around me, promising protection. It's been three days since I've gotten a proper rest. Anytime I come close to sleep, my mind comes up with a dream about mom's death, putting me in the scene and making me watch dad torture her until she dies or making me listen to her crying for me to help her. Each time I have that dream, it gets worse. Last time I had it, mom could see me. She saw me standing there and cried for me to help, but I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I was forced to watch dad slowly drag a knife down her side and listen to her scream for me to help; look into her eyes as she begged me for help. I couldn't go to sleep. If I did, I'd wake up screaming and crying.

As much as I hated to say it, I had been texting Anna. She was so nice and funny that she made me forget for a second about my problems. I haven't let her close to me though. We've talked about little things like bands and TV shows, but nothing personal. I was starting to enjoy talking to her. Somehow, she put a tiny smile on my face. I knew that I shouldn't be talking to her, that she'd only hurt me, but, at this point, I didn't care. I was already broken so much that it really didn't matter it she left. It's sad, when people get hurt so often that they're used to it.

Anthony was starting to notice that I wasn't getting enough rest. He's offered to let me come over to his house and sleep, but I refused. I hadn't realized I told him about dad, but I did. It just slipped. I wish it hadn't though.  He was always worried about me now. I made him swear that he wouldn't tell anyone though. He didn't like that, but he did it either way. I couldn't believe that, in less than four weeks, I completely gave away pretty much all of my secrets. I could only hope and pray that he wouldn't tell anyone.

I groaned as my phone started vibrating, knowing it was my alarm. I didn't feel like going to school today. I never did really. I lazily press the off button on my phone and close my eyes before I remembered that I couldn't go to sleep.

'Maybe I should just go to school. I can't stay here; I'll go to sleep if I do. I need to get up and do something.' I thought while slowly sitting up. I pushed myself off the bed and walked to the bathroom, tripping over my own feet several times. In addition to not sleeping, I hadn't been eating or drinking much. I would make sure to drink a little water each day though, just enough to keep me by. That's all I have the will for. I pulled myself to the sink, washing off my face. I couldn't take a shower, I was too weak. I would collapse, I already knew that. I had forced myself to take one last night though, so I was okay. I looked up at myself in the mirror.

There were bags under my eyes. You could tell I hadn't gotten any rest in a few days. My eyes were still a bit red from crying. My skin looked even paler than it did before. My cheeks were starting to sink in a bit. My eyes just looked empty. I looked horrible.

I sigh and look back down, turning off my faucet. I'm not going to be able to walk to Anthony's, much less to school. I doubt I could even make it through school. Dad was at work; he somehow got that job. I knew that, if I stayed, I'd be safe for a while. Either way, I needed a day off of school.

I stumbled back to my bed and fell into it. I was scared to go to sleep, but I needed it. I looked around my room and my eyes landed on my cold, sharp little friend. My razor. I knew that, if I cut, I'd be less likely to have any dreams. I carefully reach over and grab it, making three new, deep, sloppy cuts. I didn't even care to clean up the blood before I passed out.

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My eyes snapped open as I heard my phone vibrate. I groaned, looking over at it. I saw Anthony's name, but didn't make a move to grab my phone. I was too tired, too weak, to. I didn't really care either way. He was probably just calling because I was out of school today. I guess he should get used to it; I doubt if I'd be coming anymore. Even though I did cut, it wasn't enough to stop the dreams. They still came and woke my up, shaking and crying. That, of course, made me cut again. I had passed out once from how deep I went, but it didn't kill me. It never did. I wasn't that lucky.