You Found Me

Part Three

A while later, my door opened and my dad stepped into my room. He closed the door behind him and I took out my headphones. "Jaden, what's going on?" He asked sternly. I sat up on my bed.

When I didn't answer, he said "This is New York. There are so many opportunities for your education after high school. And you're failing your junior year. There's only one year left Jaden, that's it. You have to try." I shook my head. "I do try." I said quietly. "Well obviously not." He answered. "Give me your phone. You should be focusing on your life." I slapped my phone into his hand and he walked out of my room, forgetting to shut the door. I got up and slammed it behind him. "I can't focus on my life when I'm constantly wishing I was dead..." I told myself.

Without thinking, I grabbed one of the razor blades out of my drawer that I hadn't used in forever. I pulled up the sleeve of my sweatshirt and slid the razor across my skin. I hated myself. I kept making more cuts on my wrist, all the pain I was holding in for so long being released. My problems left me in the form of blood trailing down onto my hand.

I washed off my wrists and rolled my sleeve back down. Sure, I was mad at myself. But I didn't care. There was no evidence of the pain that I had just inflicted upon myself. Nobody would ever know but me.

The next morning, I got on the bus to go to school. I talk about this a lot, not because I like school, but because I was absolutely in love with a boy whose name I didn't even know. He sat beside me about halfway through the route as usual. I couldn't wait to talk to him. But in the end, I'm a 6 and he's a 10. He's perfect and I'm insecure.

As I was getting my backpack to exit the bus, I dropped my phone. Without remembering the cuts on my wrist, I picked it up. My jacket sleeve slid up my arm. I didn't realize until after I'd picked up my phone that my cuts were in full view. I stood up quickly and glanced at the boy beside me. Okay. I don't think he saw. Because if he did, it might ruin my chances of ever having him love me.

As I was walking down the sidewalk to my first period class, someone tapped my shoulder. I spun around and nearly had a heart attack. It was HIM. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered "I have scars too."