❝ if you wanna go to heaven you should fuck me tonight ❞
in which the golden girl and the football star find ways in which they relate while still keeping their differences.
[miniminter]
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❝ perhaps i don't deserve nice things cause i am paying for sins i don't remember ❞ - Rupi Kaur; Milk & Honey
WARNING. this chapter includes mentions of self harm and suicide. its pretty graphic.
Margo Frasier stood silently in her bedroom, she was staring out the window, watching some of the neighbourhood kids playing in the street, riding their bikes, play fighting and kicking a football about. Margo's bruises were a lot worse than any of the times her father had hit her. One side of her face was littered with blue and purple bruising and the other side was mostly fine, just a bruise on her jaw.
Her ribs were bruised too- luckily she hadn't broken anything, but it hurt to breathe sometimes. She'd been off school for a week, and she hadn't seen anyone but Summer, who was still going strong with Ethan.
Margo moved away from the window and checked her phone- 4 messages off Simon. She had been ignoring him all week, not because she was angry or sad- she just didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want to see him when she looked so rough and so...broken.
Margo went onto Facebook and saw some comments on her wall telling her to get well soon. There were some messages that read slag or whore or kill yourself. She hovered over one, reading the name- it was one of the girls who beat her up, she'd commented that she was sorry for everything.
Margo breathed out deeply, her hands leaving the mouse and keyboard. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small pen knife. She had kept the knife in her drawer, she sometimes got it out, and just the sight of the knife she had tried to kill herself with would ease her conscience. Not today; she had other plans.
She walked into her bathroom and began running herself a bath. She grabbed her phone and then went back into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Just as the water was at the perfect level and temperature she undressed. She picked up her phone and texted Simon Minter.
goodbye Simon Minter. i love you.
She put her phone down on the side and stepped into the bath before sitting down. She reached up for the knife, her hands shaking as she took it into her grip.
The cold metal eased her shaking and she pressed the button to flick out the knife.
Her phone buzzed on the sink rim, she closed her eyes and forced herself not to pick it up. She leaned back against the bath tub and slowly raised her arm up. The knife in her right hand, she pushed the blade against the scars of her past. She pushed harder, deeper than she had ever done before and dragged the blade across her wrist. Blood seeped out of the gash, the clear water soon became murky and crimson. She breathed in as she shakily transferred the knife to her other hand, she did the same action onto her right wrist, it was more jagged and messy, but it was just as deep as the other.
