After Chris left, I grabbed my phone and sagged into the kitchen chair. The display showed a message from Suzy, which she had sent just before leaving.
Don't let that asshole drag you down. You're way too awesome for that. Text me when you want to continue watching. DON'T YOU DARE WATCH WITHOUT ME! Just saying, I will kill you. Cheers. <3
My mouth twitched as I typed out a reply.
Dw, I'm fine. I might have a falling out with Jess and the others soon. Just to give you a fair warning who you're trying to hang out with.
Her response came without delay.
Fuck Jessica. I tried watching Kdrama with her once and she said it was weird. The nerve. It's been going downhill since then.
I chuckled to myself, and some of the weight lifted from my shoulders.
I went through the motions of brushing my teeth and washing up before falling into bed, my body drained of energy. My eyes shut on their own. Some decent sleep might be all I needed and then I could figure out how to deal with everything else.
Five minutes later I jerked upright. My body writhed as if somebody had thrown itching powder down the sleeves of my pajamas.
I jumped to my feet and rushed to the bathroom to let cold water run over my arm. With shaking hands, I carefully dabbed the skin dry and went back to bed. Hopefully, that would be it.
I woke with a start. My skin crawled as if thousands of little ants were walking all over it, their tiny legs tickling, biting in my flesh, creating an irresistible itch.
My head buried in my pillow. No. Don't think about it.
Every muscle tensed. Don't do it.
My mind zeroed onto my arm. There was nothing else.
Fight it. Don't give in.
My finger's hovered over the fabric. I had to scratch it. Just a little...
No.
My hands flexed. It didn't stop. Instead, it started throbbing...
It was impossible not to scratch.
As if possessed, my fingernails sunk into my arm, sliding up and down, over and over, in rapid movements. I had just cut my nails as short as they could possibly be, but it was not enough. I changed my grip, pressing down harder until I found that sweet spot you could never quite eliminate. A twisted sense of satisfaction coursed through me, driving me to dig even deeper, until a searing pain drowned out everything else.
My hand lost its strength and fell to the side. I slouched forward, my breathing ragged.
It hurt.
Goddamn, it hurt so much. Like someone lit a match to the endings of my nerves, and now the flames were spreading through my veins. The burning sensation was almost unbearable.
I clenched my eyes shut as if I could shield myself against the pain I'd inflicted on myself.
My arm hung at a stiff angle as my trembling fingers fumbled for the light switch. My chest tightened when I inspected the damage. The top layer of my skin was gone. In its place was angry-red, swollen flesh glistening with a colorless secretion, run through by thin lines of blood.
Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes but suddenly a laugh broke out. I had transferred schools, changed my diet, and gotten rid of everything that was even slightly irritating. I didn't use perfume, I checked every ingredient in any soap, wash, or detergent I bought. And yet. I still ended up in the same spot as I'd been in two years ago. The irony.
More laughter spilled out until sobs broke from my chest and the tears I'd been holding back finally streamed down my face. Tremors wracked through my body, and I hugged my legs to my chest with my good arm, rocking back and forth.
At some point, I got up and limped into the bathroom. The water helped calm down the burning, but the wound continued to throb painfully. There wasn't much I could do to treat it. Most ointments would only irritate it even more.
I stared at the package of cortisone pills lying on my counter. Steroids didn't help the cause, they only covered up the symptoms. They were meant to be used for emergencies. From experience, I knew relying on them for too long always ended in a backlash.
And now my time had run out.
I gripped them so hard the plastic dug into my palm and then I chucked them at the trash can. And missed.
My chest heaved. I turned and I flinched when I caught sight of my face in the mirror. My lips were cracked, and dry, flaky patches of skin covered my face. My already puffy eyes tightened around the edges.
So much for feeling well enough to wear make-up.
I had to fight the sudden urge to scratch my wound again. To feel that sweet relief, that twisted sense of satisfaction one more time to distract me from the feelings boiling inside my stomach.
My hands slammed against the basin, hard. Why was this happening to me? Why couldn't I be normal, like all the other people?
The sound of my palm smacking against the sink echoed through the apartment. Why had I scratched it? I could have stopped. If I'd been a bit stronger. If only I hadn't started scratching.
I gritted my teeth. More than once I'd woken up to find my pillow blanketed in a layer of dead skin, like a thin layer of snow covering the tip of a mountain. More than once I had discovered the telltale rust-colored stains of blood on my sheets. The signs had been there, but I'd chosen to ignore them. No. I hadn't wanted to see them.
Because you're weak, the tiny voice whispered in my head.
It was right. I was weak.
This was punishment. For making the wrong choices.
I covered my face in my hands but regretted it instantly. A scream sat on the tip of my tongue as the broken skin on my arm folded.
My fingers dug into the counter. If only I hadn't started scratching it. If only I had endured a bit longer.
Pressure built in my chest and somehow my lungs didn't seem to get enough oxygen. The room started spinning. I leaned over the basin trying to remember what Dr. Sheila had taught me.
Slow breaths, Tay. In and out. Make sure the exhale is longer than the inhale.
I repeated her words until my breathing was even and my heartbeat slowed down. My vision returned to normal.
At night the natural cortisol level of the human body drops and the itching usually became worse. One thing was certain. I wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight.
I walked into the living room, grabbed a bottle of water, and plopped down on the couch. Careful not to bend my left arm again, I reached for the control and Ji Chang-Wook's handsome face appeared on my screen. I would deal with Suzy later.
I skipped classes until Wednesday. After two days of rest, my ankle was finally well enough for me to walk around again. The wound on my arm had closed, though it still had a ways to go before it fully healed. At least my skin hadn't flared up again.
Chris had texted me several times but I ignored most of them using being sick as an excuse. Which wasn't entirely untrue.
When I arrived on Campus, I was greeted by his usual lazy smile and casual attitude. He dropped his arm around my shoulders and drew me in, completely oblivious to the way I tensed at his touch.
"We're good, right?"
"Sure," I managed to say. Good? Really? But it didn't matter. I refused to start a scene in front of the entire school, so I forced my features into what I hoped was a neutral mask.
I was about to shrug him off when we ran straight into Cody and Killian and my expression slipped. Just what I needed. Were they always a package deal?
Cody's usually effortless smile seemed forced but it was Killian who really caught my attention - he didn't even bother to hide his scowl. I braced myself. What now? Did he wake up on the wrong side of the bed?
To top off my wonderful morning, some footballers arrived, Jessica and some of her minions in tow.
"Hey, Taylor," Jessica called and Chris stilled next to me. "Where were you on Friday? I didn't see you at the party."
Of course, you didn't. Because you were busy with my boyfriend.
I lifted my shoulder half-heartedly. In the distance, I noticed Jules on his way to the lab. It was time to ditch this predicament. I ducked out of Chris' arm and gave a quick wave. "I got to go to class, see you guys later."
Cody nodded at me, his brown eyes shining with something akin to...worry? I didn't stay to find out, but to my surprise, it was Jessica again who spoke up. "Wait, Tay." Her hand clamped down on my left arm, her long fingernails digging into my skin and I winced as they ran over the scab. Out of all the places...
"I wanted to—"
"Let go," I pressed out.
She held on more tightly, apparently determined to finish whatever little script she had come up with in her head. Something hot tickled down my arm and I pressed my lips together as tears pricked at my eyes. I would not cry in front of all these people. They would probably misunderstand and think it was because of her. Or worse, because of Chris.
"Why are you being so cold? I just—"
"I said. Let. Go," I bit out.
Her back was to everyone else so only I saw the small smirk spreading over her face. "You're so dramatic. I just wanted to—"
She let out a loud shriek when I reached forward and pried her claws off me. In an instant, every head in the vicinity turned to us. A buzzing filled my ears and I kept my gaze down, my arm held stiffly in front of me.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jessica in turn held her fingers as if I was the one who had physically hurt her and not the other way around. "She nearly broke my finger," she said to the others.
I blinked hard. There was no point to argue with her, so I turned on my heel and simply walked off.
"Hey!" Her voice rang out behind me, but I hunched my shoulders and kept going.
"Leave her alone. She told you to let go. Why would you grab her out of nowhere?" Cody's hard voice carried, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"How would I know that she'd overreact—"
"Tay." Jules jogged up to me, his wide eyes peering at me over the rim of his glasses. "What the hell happened?"
I sneaked a glance over my shoulder. Cody towered over Jess, his arms crossed. She shrunk under his stare, her expression turning from smug to uneasy. Chris just stared with a blank face. And... Killian? His unreadable gaze was fixed on...me.
I jerked around, snatched Jules' jacket started dragging him forward. "I will tell you later. Keep walking."
Small bursts of fire raced up my arm and I clenched my jaw. This day better be over fast.