Isabelle hasn't said a word din the last 3 hours. No "you're grounded". No "you're being sent back home." No, "We're sending you to boarding school." No, "Give me your phone."
Nothing.
So we're sitting all of us, the entire family, even Spencer, and we're all eating dinner.
She has still said nothing.
""So Claire," Jacob asks, giving a. smug grin. "How has your week been?"
"Fine."
"And have you done anything fun? Monday night, Wednesday, maybe even last night?"
"Is that any of your business?"
"Don't be rude, Claire. Tsk tsk," he says.
"Jacob stop it!" Is ay, slamming my hand on the table.
"Woah. Last night must've gone bad."
"I will slap so hard across the fucking face that half your face will be red for the rest of your life. You know, kind of like how you hit me when we were dating," I suggest. "But harder. And not just because i'm mad and don't know how to handle my feelings, liek you, but because you're being a dick and it might get you to shut the fuck up."
"Claira Elaine! Watch your language! Your in enough trouble as it is!"
"Well thank you for finally telllinh me i'm in trouble for sleeping with my boyfriend. I was starting to get worried I'd lost my mind!" I say sarcastically.
"Clair ago to your room. I can't deal with you right now!" She says, pinching the bridge of her nose.
I slam my fork down and start to scoot my chair out.
"Hold up, Claire. You slept with who?!?" Drew asks.
"Easton. Is that a problem?"
"No. Nope. Carry on. We can discuss this later," he answers. He doesn't wanna deal with my attitude right now, I can tell.
I slam my chair into the table and stomp up the stairs, Into my room, and slam the door.
As I sit in my bed, I start to sulk. And when I open my eyes, the first thing I see is the knife from lunch earlier.
"No." I tell myself firmly.
But everything's was going well after the incident. After I got out of that stupid hospital O started going to therapy. I'm in I know it didn't help right away, but eventually it did. Life felt better. I hardly sulked. I busied myself enough so I didn't think about anything. Sure there was an occasional intrusive thought, but I always managed to push them away.
But right now.
I've ruined everything.
TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM
Grabbing the knife of my dresser, I tell myself this is what I deserve. And it will make the pain go away, maybe. At least mentally.
I cut tiny slit on my forearms. Tell myself that's all I'll do right now.
And then I slit my thighs. Outside of my things and inside. Same spot on both legs. I wince at all the pain but brush it off.
Thai is what I deserve.
If I mess up, this is what I do.
Blood dripping down my body, I quickly stand up and grab a paper towel from the roll of paper towel up here. I grab the paper towel and wipe blood off, then apply pressure, hopefully enough to stop bleeding but it doesn't.
TRIGGER WARNING OVER
Just as I let go off the pressure, Spencer barges into my room, looking a. time, then to the knife on my dress.
"Claira."
So much concern in one little word. Not what I deserve.
I hold up a finger to my lips and he nods.
"Please don't tell. Spencer please."
He shakes his head. "Claira."
"Please."
"I cant jsut let you do this to your self."
"Okay. I won't." What a lie, what a lie, what a lie. "Please though. Don't say anything for the good of me."
"Okay, okay. Can I at least help you."
"I guess."
He crouched down next to me where I sit on my chair and takes the paper towel roll. Walking out of the room, and walking ins rob a wet paper towel.
"Where."
I show him my wrists and thighs and the moment his face turns concerned I start crying full on tears.
"Why can't I be normal? This is stupid. Ok too emotional. This is dumb I shouldn't have all these problems. I should be a normal girl loving a normal life."
"Hey, breathe. Relax. Chill out. You're okay," he says, rubbing my hand as he clean the blood up off my thighs.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. There's nothing to be sorry About this."
"Whar did I do to deserve this."
"Nothing."
"Everything. I deserve this. It should happen to me. Of deserved everything i've gotten."
"Hey, don't say that. No you did not."
"Yes I did."
He drops the conversation, leaving me winning the argument.
"Okay. All done," he says, applying a long gauze bandage."
"Thank you."
"Your welcome. You know I got you any time, right."
"I know."
"Okay. Love you."
"Yup. Love you too."
"Remember. Here for you. Like an older brother. Basically what I am."
"I know."
"Tell me if you need someone."
"Okay."