Trigger in this, sorry
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~Vic's POV~
I took the razer away from my wrist shakily, staring at what I'd done. Though, in the dark I couldn't see, I could feel the damage pulsing.
I sat alone in the dark, situated in the corner of my room. My curtains remained shut as did my door. No one's allowed in here.
I could feel the liquid on my arm, and found myself worrying about if it'll make a mess. But that should be the least of my problems; a stain that can be washed out. This will take a lot longer to disappear.
I knew it was bad, I knew it was bound to be the worst it's ever been. But did I regret it? I wasn't sure. But it worked.
The pain distracted me from my problems, and no longer could I remember why I had done it in the first place. It was working perfectly. Maybe I just couldn't remember from how light headed I was feeling, as if everything was a dream. But this was much too real to be a dream. I could only wish.
No matter how much I did want to fool myself though with this thinking, that name still appeared in my head along with the face it belongs to. I could try to trick myself forever why it's been done, but I couldn't cut him out of my life. Yet I still chose to lie to myself over and over again.
I'm fine. Really.
I can't believe that, why would I expect any one else to.
I'm okay.
Does it come off fake, false, a lie? I pray for it not to.
People don't need to know about this, I'll keep it to myself. He won't be here to see, so no worries there. Maybe it's good he's gone. Being alone means no one can see what I've done to myself.
No, don't think of him.
Those words led my hand into doing one swift swipe of my wrist, causing me to feel more of the liquid seep out. But by this point, that was all I could feel. There was no pain, I was feeling too numb for pain. This was the simple feeling of what was likely to stain my sleeves, not what would stain my arms.
I knew when I was out of this daze my arm would be hurting. There was no denying that. I knew I'd be having constant anxiety on trying to hide the damage. And I knew trying to hide it would hurt too. I thought last time was bad, but this is definitely worse.
I leant my head back against the wall trying to recollect my thoughts. My mind was all over the place. I couldn't think straight. My arms throbbed, I could feel the bleeding continue. I was scared to turn the light on to see what I'd done. The whole time I was silently crying. I don't think my family would even have a clue what was happening to me right now.
Everything's so broken.
I don't know why he wanted to break up, I just don't understand it. I don't know what he was talking about, he wasn't making sense. Doesn't he know what I meant by a break? What was his idea on it all?
Stop.
I thought I had, but again, my arm moved, pulling the metal alone what stood in its way. I knew this was a bad one. I lightly, very lightly, placed my hand over my wrist in an attempt to cool down the burning. I felt I had now made a mess of my hand also. Maybe I shouldn't have done this. But I need to.
I felt a buzzing on the ground beside me, my phone screen lighting up a moment later. His face was there was he tried to get in touch. A large smile showing the brightest teeth. I remember when it was took. I told him I needed a contact picture, but every time I tried to take one, he'd push the phone away, acting embarrassed, though I know he loves getting his photo taken. We were laughing happily, and eventually I got the perfect one through the laughter, though to me all of them were perfect.
The sight of his face there just caused me to cry more, the opposite feeling to what I had that day. Everything was perfect only a week ago, we were going great! I wish I could go back in time to when everything was still okay. I wish I could just take back what I did. What was it that I did though? Was it because I suggested a break, or was it because I kept talking to him. Or was it just because I didn't understand, which I still don't. We need to talk, but I just can't bring myself to answering that phone. The phone stopped, going black.
I stared at the phone for what felt like a long time, waiting to see if he'd call again. He didn't. I turned on the lock screen to see yet another photo of him. He looked so perfect standing there in his ripped skinny jeans, so tight to wear. I wish I could have him back here, more than anything else. We need to sort this out, but how do we? Last time I tried to talk to him, we ended up breaking up. This shouldn't be so difficult.
I wish I could call him, I wish I could see him. I want to work this out with him. We're breaking up over something so small. But, maybe it's a bigger deal to him than I thought. Maybe he just really wants me to understand him. But I need help to! I can't just automatically know what he's thinking, he needs to understand that. Just because we're together doesn't mean we can read each other's minds, we are still separate people. Sometimes we need to be told what the other is thinking to truly understand. I think he needs to understand that, and the only way he can, is if I tell him. But, there's no way to do that without probably causing another fight.
I was starting to feel overwhelmed with the amount of thoughts running through my head. He head began to hurt more and I felt I was having trouble sitting upright. I lent my head against the wall behind me again, trying to keep more of my balance. I could feel everything going, something wasn't right. I remembered my arm, and my hand covering it. I could feel the blood still. I thought it would have dried more by now. I couldn't tell if it were from thinking too much, sleeping too little, or the bleeding, but before I knew it, I began to fall to the side, everything blacking out.
★
I woke to the sound of mama and Mike arguing downstairs; it were as if they were trying to make the most noise they could. It took me a moment to register my surroundings, finding myself in the same place I had been the previous night. For a moment, I thought everything had been a dream, until I felt the pain in my wrist. A small amount of light crept though under my curtain and door, causing me to take notice of what I had done.
Regret. That was my first feeling. Why had I done this? What was the point to have in the first place; forget my problems? Even when that does work, at the time, it certainly won't the next morning. Now all I'll think when I see or feel this, is what happened between Kellin and me.
I noticed I was still fully clothed and I had red stains all along my sleeve, hand, and of course wrist. I needed to wash this off. As I knew where Mike and mama were, and papa would be at work, I was safe to sneak into the bathroom next door to try and fix this. Or at least try.
I started by getting rid of my top and putting on a clean one with long sleeves, just in case. I opened the door quietly, looking around just to be sure, and tip toed out into the bathroom where I closed the door.
I looked up at my reflection. I looked miserable, I felt miserable. But at least now I didn't feel as low as I had last night. I can see now what a stupid thing it was for me to do, and over a relationship. Kellin means the world to me, but I'm sure if we give it time, we'll work it out. I hope at least. I have to try and think more positively on the situation, I don't want to turn to a razor for comfort again.
I rolled up my sleeve and turned the water on, putting my wrist and blood covered hand under the cool water. It stung. The cuts hurt, they only brought me pain. There was certainly no comfort in knowing I was the one who did this to myself. What's the point? Thinking now, I could see it was a dumb thing to do to myself, but I wouldn't be surprised if it were to happen again, tonight even. I had done it only a few days previous, and after promised myself I wouldn't do it again. But it's hard to keep a promise like that.
I carefully washed the blood away down the sink, trying not to make it any worse. At least they didn't need stitches, but still needed to be bandaged. I bent down, opening the cupboard and searched around for something to wrap the cuts. I found what I was looking for and lightly wrapped it around my arm, securing it in place after. This needed to heal, but I'm afraid the scars will remain there forever, always reminding me of why I did it.
I walked from the bathroom and back to my room. I looked around as if unsure. I found myself moving towards the corner that I sat in, remembering how I felt last night. I picked up my phone and the razor. I looked at the piece of metal, feeling more and more angry at myself for what I had done with it. I need to get rid of this! I stomped towards my bedside table, pulling it open violently, searching through for other things like this. I gathered them together and stared at them. I'm not turning to these again. I can't. And I know I can't stop until I get rid of these. Keeping them around will just be a temptation, much like this picture of Kellin as my wallpaper. I hesitantly threw the razors and pins into my small bin, telling myself I would throw them all away later, getting them out of my room for good.
I now looked at my phone, already feeling like crying to see this photo here and the missed call. But even though it hurt to see, I couldn't bring myself to changing it, I can't. For now, I opted for just turning it off.
I don't feel like going to school today. I don't think I can. Kellin will be there, and I'm bound to run into him. I didn't know what kind of emotions that would bring up, knowing I wouldn't be able to talk to him.
I got into my bed under the sheets. I've finally decided to take a sick day. Mama will hopefully let me stay home, I look miserable enough as it is without having to even try and fake it. I pulled my sheets up close to my face and rolled over away from the door. I didn't want to think about anything today, I just wanted to sleep.
With not long left to have to be ready for school, mama came into my room to see why I hadn't gotten up yet. I told her I was feeling unwell, and as I couldn't stop thinking of Kellin and getting worked up about him, I caused myself to have a temperature. Thankfully, she let me have the day off.
But even being away from him, and anything that reminded me of him, I just couldn't stop thinking about Kellin. I was afraid that if I tried to fix the situation, I'd just make it worse like last time. I can't go to him, or he may just reject me completely. I should just give him space, and wait for him to hopefully come to me. I don't know if he will, but at least I'm giving him the choice that if he wants this relationship to continue, he'll have to come to me about it.