The Gangleader and Me(ON HOLD)

•Chapter 24•

I nod, "Alright since I'm already done I'll go take a shower first." Abby gives me a thumbs up, already taking another forkful of hash browns. I stand up and grab my cup and plate, heading towards the dishwasher and leaving it in there. I exit the kitchen and before I could even get to the stairs, Monty started running towards me, so before he reached me, I crouched down.

When he got to me, the first thing he did was lick my face which made me laugh. I scratched under his chin saying, "Alright Monty, I need to go take a shower, I'll play with you later." And with that, I gave Monty a light kiss on the top of his head and stood up straight before heading up the stairs.

I walk into Abby's room, grabbing my body wash, my waterproof speaker that I forgot I even brought, my black lace thong, black bombshell push-up bra, black 'Normal people scare me' hoodie and my black bleach washed ripped denim shorts. 

Lastly, I grab my phone which was charging overnight, thanks to Abby who put it to charge when I fell asleep. With everything in my hands, I walked into the bathroom, setting the stuff down on the counter and locking the door before stripping down.

I turn on the water but before I stepped into it I grabbed my phone and went through the music that I had downloaded and pressed shuffle, 'Hello Bitches' by CL started playing so I quickly paused it, connected to my speaker then pressed play once it was connected.

I stepped into the shower with the speaker and bottle of body wash in hand. I immediately started lathering myself after I set down the speaker. I started to rub the soapy suds against my stomach, my fingers rubbing over the cuts that were turning into scars.

I slowed down my hand until it came to a stop as I started thinking back to how I got these cuts. The sick evil glint in his eyes when he pressed the glass against my stomach which made it draw blood.

The fact that there was nobody, not one person who was there to save me and there never will be someone. Nobody was gonna be my knight in shining armor, my prince/princess charming, I'll never be the princess who's guarded by the fire-breathing dragon that a guy or girl insists on slaying while I'm locked away in the castle that they'd most likely climb up in any way they can because they're my prince/princess charming, the yang to my ying.

I felt my legs shake weakly, before my knee hit the tile floor, pain shooting through my knees but I didn't feel it. All I could feel was pity for myself. I looked down at my arm, seeing that almost all the cuts were turning into scars.

I bit my lip, feeling the very familiar feeling I got when I was like this. The temptation to glide the blade against my wrist, my arm, slicing the skin to draw blood and give me that very familiar stinging pain that numbed me from the outside world.

The craving feeling that smokers get when they need the nicotine that has them hooked. Blades are my nicotine and though it's a bad and sick addiction, there's a reason they call it an addiction. It's a condition. A sickness if you will and I needed to desperately repress the crave that was building up in my chest.

I stood up on my wobbly legs and looked around looking for something sharp and spotted a pink razor that was laying in the corner, tempting me to grab it so I fell into my temptation and grabbed the razor, looking at the clean, sharp, silver blades that sat there, shining in the light above me.

I snapped the head of the razor off, tossing the stick to the side before breaking apart the plastic pieces that hold the blades. Finally, I reached them, three silver blades in my hands.

I grabbed one, setting the other two aside before I sat down on the floor of the shower, my back pressing against the cold wall, pelts of hot water hitting my bare legs.