TW!!
Abuse, Self Harm, Eating disorder, Harsh Wording.
Authors note:
Quick message y'all! Whenever a chapter has something that may be triggering, I will try my best to always have a tw at the start of the chapter. So please be on the lookout for those.
Happy reading y'all ♡︎
𝐴𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦'𝑠 𝑃𝑂𝑉
I'm in trouble.
Trouble is an understatement. I was in so much more than 'trouble'. I should've been more careful.
As I step into the room, I see my parents standing in front of me. Using my peripheral vision, I can see that my room is trashed. My clothes were all over the place, some ripped into shreds. My mirror was smashed, fragments of glass scattered across the floor. The books I had rented from my local bookstore were torn, the pages were nothing but bits and pieces now. The only thing that seemed to be intact was my bed, but my covers had been ripped and torn.
My room was once my safe place, now, it's going to be nothing but a bad memory.
This is going to cost a lot of money to replace. Money that I don't have.
"Where the fuck have you been all day? You left your mother and I stranded with no fucking alcohol and this place is a filthy mess! Can you do anything right for God sakes?" I flinched at my father's words. I don't know why I still flinch. I should be used to it by now.
"I- I- I'm sorry father," I stutter.
I shouldn't have stuttered. Stuttering for me shows fear.
As the words came out of my mouth, my father kicked my stomach, causing me to crash onto the floor and fall onto the fragments of glass.
My mother walked towards me and slapped me across my face.
"I bet you were with boys all day, you're a dirty pathetic slut, I don't even know how anyone could be attracted to you, you're a pig, look at you, nothing but fat, you're weak, " she spat in my face.
No matter how many times she says these things, it hurts more and more every time.
Before stepping away, she kicks my stomach, the same place my father kicked me. I held my stomach with my arms as she stepped back and stood next to my father.
I would say that was all, but I know better.
My father picks me up by my neck and pushes me against the wall.
His hand tightens around my neck, making it almost unattainable to escape.
"Listen carefully, one, you will clean up this mess and the rest of the mess in the living room, two, once you are done, you will go out and buy alcohol for us, three, you have an hour," he demands.
He let go of my neck, causing me to drop to my knees.
"Pft, pathetic," I heard my mother say as they walked out the door.
There definitely will be bruises.
I begin to cry. Why does this happen to me? Every single time, it gets taken out of me. Why me?
One hour.
I wipe my tears away and stand up. I almost collapse from the pain I'm in but I don't have time for that. I only have an hour to get everything cleaned up and to buy drinks for my parents. I better start moving.
I start with my room. I pick up all the shards of glass and the pieces of paper. I then move on to my clothes, I try and salvage the most that I can but it's not much use, almost everything is destroyed. I'm going to have to go shopping at the thrift store tomorrow.
I remake my bed, my covers are torn but they're still usable and I don't throw away usable things.
I look at my phone to check the time and I see that cleaning my room has taken 20 minutes.
I have 40 minutes to clean the living room and go out and buy alcohol.
I quickly make my way to the living room and begin to pick up all the empty beer cans.
I don't understand how two individuals could consume this much alcohol. I wouldn't be surprised if they wake up with alcohol poisoning tomorrow.
After picking up the beer cans I toss the rubbish bag to the side and head to the kitchen to grab a small zip lock bag.
I head back towards the living room, over to the table. Using a tissue, I wipe all the white powder into the bag. I've been told that it is expensive. I learnt my lesson after wiping it away with a wet tea towel this one time.
Never again.
Cleaning the living room only took me 10 minutes, meaning I had 30 minutes to go buy alcohol. The store was about a 20-minute walk, so I had to be quick, I couldn't be a second late.
I run back to my room and grab some of our rent money that is stashed in my bathroom draw. I honestly have no idea how I'm going to pay rent at this rate.
I hurry out the door, throwing the rubbish bag into the bin. I then begin to run to the store, I needed to make this trip as short as possible.
After running for around 10 minutes, I arrived at the store.
"Can I please have 2 packs of raspberry vodka, please?" I ask the man behind the register.
He looked scary.
"52 bucks," he says, showing his yellow, black teeth.
"No id?" I stare in confusion.
"I don't care, just pay the money and get out of my store," he says in a stern voice.
Rude.
Not wanting to deal with him anymore, I pay and grab the alcohol. Once I'm outside, I start to run again, only this time, it's more difficult as I'm holding two packs of alcohol.
The run back takes around 15 minutes but I still make it in time.
Thank gosh.
I leave the alcohol on the coffee table and head straight back to my room. I want to be alone.
As soon as the door closes, I collapse onto the floor. Tears stream down my face and I cover my mouth with my hand to block out any muffling noises that may come out of my mouth. I crawl towards the bathroom and I stand up. I look at myself in the mirror and I lift my shirt. Once my shirt is removed, it reveals all my marks. There are fresh and old bruises, scars running across my skin, burnt marks from cigarettes, it's ugly.
One thing I hate is the mirror. The mirror points out all my flaws. I see how ugly my hair is, my skin isn't smooth, my eyes are everything but mesmerising, my shoulders are broad wide, I have fat in my stomach, my thighs are too big and there's no gap, I have hip dips, everything I see, my brain tells me I'm ugly. All my features are ugly.
As more tears stream down my face, I crouch down at the toilet. As much as I hated doing this, I couldn't help it. My brain tells me it's the right thing to do.
I lean over and stick two fingers in my mouth. After two gags, throw up comes out of my mouth. I repeat this eight times.
I flush the toilet and wipe my mouth.
I couldn't help but feel so worthless.
I had a great day until I got home.
I met the most gorgeous man and I spent the day with my best friend, but of course, something had to go wrong. Something always goes wrong when it comes to me.
I open my draw and I grab the blade. I have a few things that help me escape from reality and unfortunately harming myself is one of them. Something about the pain feels good, it helps me relax.
With the blade, I take it to my arm.
As the cold blade touches my burning skin, red blood gushes out. I stare blankly at the sight.
I really wish someone was here to save me from this mess.
Line after line, blood covers my arm and the bathroom floor. Something didn't feel right.
My head was spinning, black dots started to appear in my vision.
The last thing I remember was hearing the metal blade hit the floor.
Everything went black.
~ 08/02/22
Chapter 5 completed :)
I forgot how sad this chapter was.
Sorry for the inconsistent posts, sometimes I forget that I'm real and that I write.
Don't be a silent reader :)
Much love, Em xx