Blood Stains and Burn Marks

Chapter 14

Morning comes far too fast and it seems yet again I'm stumbling out of a empty bunk. Tate still hasn't spoke to me and it's been several weeks past. He barely even looks at me anymore. Probably too ashamed of the thing that he was once in love with. I know I would be. I'm hoping that once the plan I have mapped out starts, it'll win him back. I just can't bare the thought of being in a world without Tate by my side. I suppose though I could live without him. Just like I live without my parents and my sister who died too young. A lot of the time I wish it was reversed. That I had died and she had lived, but I know that would be too easy. And life was anything but. So I will sit on this bunk, with just my thoughts and memories. Of a loving mother, a cherished father, a lost sister, and a dying love.

I think about all the times Tate use to bring me those cupcakes. "3 DAYS CLEAN", "12 DAYS CLEAN", "35 DAYS CLEAN". The numbers bounce around in my head like a torment to myself. If I had only stayed clean just a little bit longer, stayed just a little bit stronger, maybe Tate would still bring me those.

It's been none stop raining for god only knows how long. I tried to keep myself busy by counting the days, but somewhere along the line, missed days turned to missed weeks, and it seemed rather pointless to continue. I've always loved the rain but it reminds me of what I've lost so I settle for the sun. And believe me there's a lot of days where it seems like I have nothing left to lose. But each day something has a way of coming along and having an effect on my life, and it seems that yet again I've found myself crying over something rather foolish.

Like today for insists; I went to the cafeteria and they didn't have any peach cups left, just orange and I spent the rest of my day crying over the fact that even the small things I love eventually find a way to leave me in the end too. And it's so stupid how I get attached to things that any normal person can go buy at their local convenience store but I just can't seem to help myself.

Since Tate and are still aren't talking I've spent serval weeks just thinking, which in a sense sounds good, but in a white and black world where you only see grey, it can be rather dangerous. I've thought a lot of my mother recently. The way her eyes could guide any man into the light with her but yet she settled for the source of darkness. I guess my father wasn't as bad as I betray him to be. I mean he never hit me or my sister. Always bought us gifts and toys. Spent nights just reading us to sleep. But he was cold. At times I would wonder if hidden in his eyes was even a soul. He was rather cruel to my mother though. I only remember him once ever showing her love or affection. Most times he'd just yell at her for not having supper ready earlier or not dressing nicer for the occasion. But to us I suppose he couldn't be a better father. I laugh at the last part. If he cared about us so much why did he just leave? If he cared so much about me why did he just leave like I never even meant a damn thing to begin with?

The thought makes me angry and then extremely sad. My first reaction is to look for my blade but then I realize that I promised to Tate that I wouldn't do that anymore, and I can't have another strike against me. Not yet. But the urge is overwhelming so I settle for running my fingers over the wooden bunk instead, praying for a sharp edge. And eventually I find one. I guess I just struck out.