Six Was Afraid Of

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Six Was Afraid Of + 6

I woke up to see my broken mirror and my knuckles in a bandage wrap. I wracked my brain to recollect what had happened and frowned. My cheeks felt sticky and my heart felt numb. I felt nothing in the end. I heard Dad playing his beloved white baby grand down in the living room and struggling. I must've been such a mess last night. An emotional mess. His croon was full of heartbreak and worry as he poured himself into whatever he could conjure out. "A little bit longer and I'll be fine." He sang out one of his older songs as I stepped slowly down the staircase. My father stopped playing as his eyes met mine. That was one of the many things I never understood. Why were his eyes brown and mine were blue? Are Jordan's eyes blue? I know the gene is recessive, but normally brown eyes are dominant regardless of the parent that carries them. Goddamn biology. My thoughts wandered and wondered swiftly about in my head as he came over and gave me a loving hug. "Are you alright?" My father gently wiped the slight sticky feeling of dried tears from my cheeks. "Yeah, I'm alright." I slowly nodded out a lie. I wasn't alright, but maybe I could convince myself that I was. "Roxie Mae." Dad sighed. He knew I wasn't alright. Alright people don't punch mirrors out of acts of histeria and manic self-loathing. "You've been acting strange lately. Dying your hair blue, not eating, breaking a mirror, crying hysterically, and you're always having a testy attitude," He listed. "What's going on?" He asked in a low tone. I shook my head and looked away. "I'm alright." I reitterated. "Roxie," Dad paused. "I'm here for you." He noted with a kiss to my forehead. "Just talk to me, I'll listen." He added. "I will listen." He finished. "I'm alright, Dad. I promise." I walked back up into my room with a heavy heart.

[...]

I laid on my side while staring at the mirror I had broken. I shot my eyes down to the floor where there were shards of the glass. My mind raced with the idea of self-harm. I felt nothing. Maybe cutting would make me feel. I sat up and then bent over to pick up a piece of mirror from my floor. I moved my dress slightly upwards from my thighs before piercing the skin on my left leg. I hissed in pain and then noted the blood I had drawn. I still felt nothing. I couldn't feel anything inside anymore. I had become desensitized from everything. I took the shard of reflective glass to my left thigh again and watched more blood ooze out from my skin. At this point, I had to stop.

I had to shower.

I trudged into my bathroom and undressed. I examined myself in the mirror and immediately saw everything that I hated. I hated everything. I broke my eyes away from my body before turning on the water. I got in the shower and watched my blood run down my leg. I hissed in pain again and let out a heavy sigh. "Please, God." I muttered through my teeth. I grabbed the bottle of body wash in the bottom corner and applied some onto my cuts. It only made it worse. Fuck. "Oh God, please make it stop!" I pleaded quietly. Regardless of my aching cuts, I had to clean myself. I was still dressed in last night's tears and manic episode.

[...]

"Are the kids at school treating you okay?" Dad asked as we dined on Chikfila. I looked down at my fruit cup. That was all I ordered. A dinky little fruit cup. "I'm fine." I grumbled. "Roxie, you need to speak up if you're not being treated fairly." He pointed out. "Dad, please!" I snapped lowly. "Can you change the subject!?" I chided. "I'm fine!" I firmed. "I'm fine." I shook my head and picked at my fruit cup with my fork. "And I'm worried about you!" My famed father noted. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to go to school on Monday." He took a swig of water from his Dasani bottle. "Dad," I sighed. "I have to go." I commented. "I can't miss anything." I rebutted. "Fine." He shook his head lightly. I have a plan.

[...]

Monday reared its ugly head while Dad dropped me off at school. I didn't try to look cute this morning. I didn't care. I was going to be judged regardless. "I'll be back here at 3 to pick you up." My father breathed as he pulled up to the curb. "I love you, Rox." He kissed my temple and unlocked the car. I grabbed my bag in silence and got out. I shut the door and watched him drive away. The bell rang for first period and I rushed off campus. I didn't know where I was going, but I sure as hell wasn't going to school. My main priority was that I had to find a hiding place away from everyone and the paparazzi. I just wanted to hide. "Roxie!" I heard Jake cry out my name. "Roxie!" I kept running as he ran after me.

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