Obsession

12

He reluctantly handed me the keys, and kept his scrutinizing gaze on me until he could no longer see me. Even then, he kept texting me, at first worried, and then pissed I was ignoring him. To avoid his constant worrying and threats, I turned off my phone. Then it was just me and the road.

I contemplated driving nowhere in particular, by Lucinda's fuel gauge was faulty, so I didn't know how convenient that plan would be. Instead, I opted for a location I had grown to love over the years. It was the closest thing I had to a safe space. I had always found peace in nature, and this spot was the most peaceful place I could think of. It was hidden beyond the hills on the outskirts of the city, and I was confident I was the only person who knew of its existence.

A little over an hour later, I was still driving, but the concrete buildings had been exchanged for rolling, green hills and trees, and the wide, straight road had been traded for a narrow, meandering one. Moreover, the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and in its stead, the full moon shone brightly. At this point, the car wouldn't go any further, and I had to walk.

My walk was short yet enjoyable. The air in these woods was clean, and breeze was cool. The moon had been joined by several million stars, most of which were not visible in the heavily polluted city. My body relaxed as I approached the familiar clearing in the woods. The tree stump, which had become my stool over the years, was rooted to the spot where I had left it. I knew it was impossible for it to go anywhere, but I still enjoyed knowing it was there.

I sat on my stump, wondering why I felt nothing from Taylor's rejection. For the most part of my life, I had known one friend that I knew would never leave me: pain. Whether it be emotional or physical, pain was always lurking around me like shadow. Tonight though, there was no pain. There was no anger or hate or even disappointment. I felt nothing, but for the first time I wished I could feel something, anything. I wished I could be angry at Jason or myself, but I was empty. I wished I could be disappointed att Taylor's cold, rejecting eyes, but there was nothing there. I so desperately wanted to feel anguished or brokenhearted, but my heart had finally become hard as stone. In my desperation, I sought out the only way I could feel the pain I had become accustomed to: my pocket knife. I needed to know if any of this was real, or if I was just a phantom, cursed to roam this world alone. The knife was the only way I would know if this was a nightmare or reality was haunting me.

The blade's shiny surface reflected the moonlight as I pulled it out of its sheath. I toyed with it in my hand for a while, then I began to press the tip into my palm ever so slightly. I almost felt something, but it wasn't enough. I applied even more pressure, until I had penetrated my skin, and blood began to ooze out. I felt a little sting, but I needed more. I continued to rip into my flesh, tracing a line from my palm down to my wrist and arm, cutting deeper as I went. The pain began to get excruciating, and the crimson red liquid began to flow even more rapidly. Now, it was joined by salty tears, which began to pour furiously out of my eyes, drenching my shirt. I was finally feeling the pain again. I was still human; a hurt, severely damaged human, but at least I was human.

A slight rustling in the bushes drew my attention away from my activity. It was probably a harmless animal, or a predator who had been drawn in by the scent of my blood. I quickly dismissed that idea, as predators were not known to be occupants of this particular forest.

Then it hit me. It was a full moon, after all.

"Rhian!What the hell were you doing?"

"Monique? For a second there, I thought you were a werewolf."

"Why would you think that?" she asked as she tore off parts of her jeans to bandage up my hand.

"Well, this is a wattpad teen fic. It would be criminal for there not to be at least one supernatural creature."

"Huh?" she asked, a bit confused.

"I think I called you a supernatural criminal or something," I replied, getting dizzy from all the blood I had lost.

"Okay, what happened here?"

"I love her. Now I'm in pain," I answered as she put my arm over her shoulders and helped me to the car. She sighed in frustration as I refused to get in, claiming Tyrone would have my head on a silver platter if I spilled a single drop of blood on his seats. She managed to toss me into the backseat amidst my protests, and not long after she had started the car, I fell asleep.

I woke up to the sound of my feet being dragged as Monique attempted to get me into her house.

"I'm fragile. Handle with care," I grumbled. I couldn't see her face properly in the dark, but I knew she was probably rolling her eyes at me.

I made no attempt to support myself, allowing her to drag me all the way inside and onto a chair. The lights were already on, indicating that either someone else was home or that she had forgot to turn them off.

"Is anyone else home?"

"I live alone."

"You're just wasteful. Is the tap on too?" I questioned sternly.

"I hope not. I left in a hurry. It was just this once. No need to be upset."

I was starting to get suspicious. She had found me in trouble for the second time, and this time, it was a place I could testify no one but myself knew about.

"Why were you in a hurry? How did you find me anyway?" I probed.

"Calm down, Sherlock. I'll ask the questions here. Why were you bleeding in the middle of nowhere?"

"You know, I find it really disturbing that you're completely comfortable with my hand being tied up in rags when I'm sure you have bandages and alcohol to disinfect the wound with," I deflected, using my years of experience with Anne. For once, she had come in handy. Well, she did like to use her hands -a lot- but you get what I mean.

"Oh, right," she said, hurrying off to wherever she kept her emergency supplies.

I sat there in silence, then I remembered that my phone was still switched off in my pocket. I pulled it out and turned it on, and almost immediately, I was flooded by thousands of messages, most of them threats from Tyrone, but there was one from someone else. My heart began to beat faster as I processed the fact that Taylor had sent me a message. It was probably an essay on why we couldn't be friends anymore, but there was the slight chance that she could be declaring her undying love for me.

I hesitated a little, took a short breath, and contemplated opening the message. There was probably no point in reading it, but I wanted to know, no, I needed to know if this was goodbye or not.

Taking one last deep breath, I opened the message.

Hello everyone. First of all I would like to apologize for the contents of this chapter. I understand self harm may be triggering to some, but it had to be done.

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