Speak Up

Chapter 14

A/N: Just a warning that this chapter contains self-harm.

I snuck in the house when I return home, not wanting Mom to ask me questions when she sees my bruise jaw and cut lip. Luck was on my side when I walked in to see Mom snoozing on the couch with the television on after a hard day at work.

I make my way to the bathroom. When I see my reflection in the mirror I was thankful my face wasn't badly mess up that I have to confess with what happened. With my bruise jaw and cut lip I would be able to come up with a lie when Mom asks me questions. I know I should confess to Mom, tell her everything that has happened tonight, but I just couldn't. Call me weak, but I was just terrified of what would happen if I did tell on Liam. I knew what he was going to do to me if I tell anyone.

Trey said I should tell someone about the threat Liam made about killing me, but I said not to worry. Who do I tell anyway and hope they will listen? My mother, who I don't need to get worried about me over a threat that Liam made to make himself look great in front of his friends? The police, who will might not do anything unless Liam actually does something? Or the school principal, who will most likely not give a damn, especially if the threat was made outside of school then it's nothing she can do about it.

I open the cabinet to reach for my anxiety medication when I remembered I didn't have anything. I wanted to take something, anything to numb the pain I felt and just forget what a loser I am. I hate myself. I'm not confident enough to tell someone what is going on, only because I keep thinking of the consequences and the bad side of it if I spoke up.

Maybe I should just do Liam and everyone else a favour and end my life, because I don't feel that I fit in with anything. I still don't understand what I have ever done to get bullied so much.

By the morning I really did not want to get out of bed. I wanted to crawl back under the covers and have a sick day, but Mom will know I'm faking it. Whether or not if she would believe me about being sick, but now that she knows that I have been bullied, her first thought might be that I was avoiding school because of that reason.

I had a shower to freshen up. I also shaved my face as stubble began to appear on my jaw. The bruise and cut lip was visible and I wasn't sure yet what I was going to tell my Mom what had happened.

As I shaved, I begin to think what it would be like to cut myself with the blade from my razor. I don't mean accidentally cutting yourself while shaving, but actually taking out the blade and to slice the wrist. It's not something I have ever done before. Since I started taking the anxiety medication, it would help me to keep calm. But without taking them for almost a week, I was going crazy out of my mind, wanting some way to deal with the pain I had.

I take out of the blade as soon as I finished shaving. I stare at the silver blade in my hand, thinking whether or not if I wanted to do this. I knew I shouldn't, but my mind was telling me to do it.

I sit down on the toilet sit. With the blade I slice a small line across my left wrist slowly. I bite down on my lip as the sharp object slices the skin. Thick crimson blood spills out of the small cut. I watch it bleed out. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel like once I had cut the skin - good, proud, ashamed? I don't know, but I immediately felt horrible, stupid for doing this. Why was I thinking about harming myself after all this time?

I sob silently so Mom wouldn't hear me. I threw the razor and blade into the waste bin, and then wash my wrist underneath water. I stand at the sink for a moment to press down on the cut with my other hand to stop the bleeding.

A knock comes from the door. "Zach, are you almost finish?"

I wipe my eyes, sniffing. "Yeah, I'm almost done. I will be out in a sec, Mom."