Blood Stains and Burn Marks

Chapter 7

Night approaches quickly and soon Tate is sleeping in his bunk and I in mine. I start to pick at the wood above me. Scratching it. I feel little chips of wood fall on my face but I don't care. All of a sudden a voice interrupts the silence.

"Devena? What are you doing?" Damn it I thought he was asleep.

"What?" I try to play it off. Maybe he'll just let it go.

"To my bed. I can feel you doing something to the wood underneath." Guess not.

"Oh." I know instantly that he's referring to the scratching. I'm a little surprised he can feel that through the wood. "Sorry." I lay my arm back down.

"Why do you do it?" If you were to just listen to Tate's voice you'd believe that he were a thirty year old man. But once you see him in person it's rather quite hard putting the two together.

"Because, it helps me concentrate. It helps me forget that I want to cut..." My voice trails off. "That I need to cut." My voice comes out small and weak.

"I get that...you know...you can keep doing it...I don't mind." A smile suppresses on my face.

"Alright." I bring my arm back up and continuing scratching at the wood. I try so hard to focus on the wood under my finger tips. The rough wood, but the aching of my wrist takes over. I remember the night Hunter died. How he cut his leg on the bed frame. I trace my hand over the wooden leg and I feel it. The sharp wood. Relief rushes through my body. Tonight I'll dance in heaven.

***

I wait several hours until I know Tate's asleep. I can faintly hear him snoring. Everyone else has fallen asleep awhile ago at least that's what it seems. I slowly extend my wrist down and scrape it against the wood. But its no use. My arms are too short. I have no choice. I crawl out of my bunk, trying desperately not to make a sound. I reach for the leg and scrape my wrist again. This time I make a scratch. I can feel it. I do the same motion again and again, harder each time until I can feel the blood covering the floor. Relief and sadness rush over me. I was clean for 68 days and I just ruined everything. Everything I've had I've ruined. But it feels so good. It feels so right. I keep doing it. My arms is soon covered in blood, along with an increasingly growing pool on the floor. 'It's your fault your mother is dead. Your fault your sister killed herself. Your fault your father left. I wouldn't want to deal with you either.' By now I'm so light headed I can't even stand. I instead attempt to crawl back into my bunk. Constant thoughts rush through my head. Blood stains my sheets. And tonight I'll dance in heaven.

***

I awake to Tate tugging at my sleeve. It reminds me of the night Lizzie came and begged me to go with her. To help her. Even though in the end there was nothing I could do. Hunter wanted out, like the majority of us in here. And when you want out that bad, you're willing to lose and risk everything to get it.

I look around at the blood stained sheets. I look at my blood stained shirt. I look at Tate, with his tear stained eyes.

"We need...to talk." He bows his head and I know there no way I'm getting myself out of this one. He lifts his head after I guess several minutes of thinking. Our eyes meet. Blue to green. Pain to grief. Cuts to burns. Scars to scars.

"I-I-I...Tate I-" But he cuts me off before I can finish.

"You cut, again." The words fall out of his mouth. Poison to his tongue. Suicide to his lips. My heart drops. It beats so slowly I think I could die. My breaths become sharp and quick. I've never seen so much hurt and sorrow on someone's face before. He cared, and I let him down. I try to speak again.

"I...I..." No matter how hard I try to form words it doesn't work. I can't. There's no way I can possibly form words right now. What would I say to him if I could? That I'm sorry? Sorry for what? Being weak? Letting him see just how damaged I am? Letting him get attached to a ticking time bomb? Do I tell him I'm sorry that I'm not as strong as him? Or that he shouldn't of had so much faith in me when I don't even have any in myself? How do you even respond to that?

I stare into his eyes for a brief moment and I see the pain behind them. The blaming. The 'how could you' and the 'why?'. I turn away.

"Don't you dare turn away from me right now. Devena, if you needed help, someone to talk to...you could have asked me...but instead...you...you cut. How...how do you except yourself to get better...if...if you just keep giving up?" I take a deep breath. Maybe if I don't look into his eyes I can speak.

"Because...I can't." My voice sounds the same way it did when I had to break the bad news to Lizzie. It's small and weak. Fragile and broken.

"Can't what Devena?"

"Can't...can't be fixed."

"Oh for godsakes not this again. Listen, if you keep giving up like this, of course you can't be fixed. Devena, you need to try in order to succeed. And I know that's going to be hard. Trust me I know. But you need to try." Something inside me snaps.

"I've been trying!" My voice comes out loud and bold. Tate looks more than taken back. "I'm sorry that I can't be as strong as you! I'm sorry I need to feel that pain! I'm sorry that I make you sick just looking at me! I'm so fucked up Tate, there's no fixing me..." My voice cracks and tears begin to run down my cheeks.

Tate pulls me closer to him. So close I can feel his heart beating. Tears lightly stream down his face as well.

"Well you need to try harder." He quickly kisses the top of my head and gets up. He starts heading to the door but I stop him.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get something to eat. Care to join me?"

"Tate I look awful. I've just been crying for god sake. What do you think they'll think?"

"See that's your problem Devena. You're constantly worrying what everyone else thinks. Who cares what they think? You're scared they're going to judge you, or making fun of you for being weak. Well they're no better. So who really cares?"

"But-"

"It's up to you. But I'm going in there, regardless of what you think. But I'd really like if you'd come with me."

"I...I just can't."

"Alright. Want me to sneak you back something?" I smile at him.

"No, I'm just going to lay here and think for a bit." He looks at me one last time and he's out the door. His eyes still on my mind. His touch still my biggest weakness. His lips stilll my greatest desire. My god was he ever beautiful.