Jaded

Twenty One

TWENTY ONE

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I leaned against the sink, bracing my hands on the edges. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I felt ready to collapse. I couldn't say why but I did. After several moments I shoved my hair back away from my face and turned on the cold water. I listened to the rush of water spiraling down the drain for seconds, maybe minutes. My mind wandered not really even going anywhere. Eventually, I splashed the water into my face, gasping at the shock of it against my heated skin. My eyes slid to the mirror, catching sight of my reflection. I inhaled sharply.

I didn't recognize the person staring back.

The person staring back at me was empty. Messed up. Fucked up. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at myself a second longer. I hated the sight of it. I didn't want to be this person. I wanted to blink and the girl I was—the girl I should be—would be staring back at me. But none of that happened. I opened my eyes, staring into the mirror. I brought my fingers to my face, hesitantly touching my face. My skin felt foreign, unnatural.  I leaned closer to the mirror, examining myself. I pressed my fingers harder into my skin. I winced, noting the unmistakable pang of pain. And that was when I saw it.

I ripped my hand away. I looked down at my finger tips covered in blood. MY breathing picked up and I felt panic raise up inside me. My eyes shot back up to the mirror. My gaze instantly went to where my fingers had just been moments ago. Blood dotted my face, hardly noticeable. I touched it. My fingers barely grazed the skin when I felt the same shot of pain. I gasped, pulling my hands away again. More blood. I started to panic. I pawed at my face. I wanted the bleeding to stop. I pressed my hand into my face and cried out at the pain.

What was going on?

It was then that my eyes returned to the mirror, taking in my frenzied state. Everything looked the same, looked normal. My hair was messy and tangled. My clothes slightly wrinkled like I had slept in them. But there was blood. There was so much blood. I leaned in, my shaking hands bringing a cloth to my face. I paused. My eyes scoured my face and then I saw it. I watched in horror as the spot I had touched just moments ago started to melt. My skin slowly melted from my face, like peeling pain from a wall. I was hyperventilating now. I pressed the cloth to my face.

"No, no, no!" I cried. "No!"

But nothing helped. I stared helplessly as my flesh melted from the bone and then I felt myself slipping. It was almost like I was being pulled away. I was no longer a part of this scene. It was no longer happening to me. And then I was gasping, clutching the sheets in my hands. I blinked. I was in my room. I touched my face. I was fine, okay. I ran a hand over my face, feeling my sweaty skin. It was then that I became aware to the sound of my alarm screaming. I ripped it out of the wall, letting the silence swallow me. The dream. It was so real. It was so damn real. I fell back into my bed, letting the bed wrap around me. The feeling instantly brought a sense of comfort to me, but it didn't last long. My mind started to wander.

It had been five days. Five goddamn days. I couldn't take it. Wouldn't. I needed it. I knew what Parker had said. He never asked but I wanted to. I wanted to change. How could I not after what he had told me? I was the picture of everything he hated. Maybe I shouldn't care. Maybe I should just be happy with that and move on, but I can't. The thought that he may hate me, may think of me like he does his dad or mom—it kills me. So I had told him I wanted to be different. He said he would help me, support me. In that moment it had all seemed so simple. So damn easy, but now it felt anything but.

I pushed myself off of my bed, wincing when the sheets stuck to my sweaty skin. I padded across the floor and into my bathroom. I stripped down, slipping into the shower. I let the cold water run over my heated skin. It was a shock to my system, envigorating me, waking me up. I leaned against the shower wall, closing my eyes. I let the water run over me and over me. I don't know how long I stayed like that but finally I pulled myself out of the shower. I shoudl have been shivering but I wasn't. I dropped back down onto my bed. I sighed. I didn't want to do this. Especially not in the shape I was in. I was a fucking wreck. A mess. I looked at the clock and felt my insides lock up.