Alexa
I took a deep breath and walked to Elliot's, Jackson's and Michael's table. The same table that I had sat at, once upon a time, when we were friends.
Today is Monday. It's been three days since Friday when I had self harmed. It wasn't a lot or big cuts, but I had still hurt myself. I didn't tell anyone about it. I didn't need to; it's in the past. I promised myself that I wouldn't hurt myself again, but there was still a part of myself that wanted to.
For a little bit, I had felt relief and euphoria, when I made myself bleed. It took away from my negative emotions. I don't want to again, but I don't know if that's such a good idea.
But anyways...
When I walked over to the table, Jackson glared at me, Michael looked at me sadly, and Elliot's expression remained blank. I felt my throat close up. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted my friends back, even if they didn't believe the words that had came out of my mouth on that fateful day that had ended our friendship.
"What do you want?" Elliot spoke up. His eyes and voice seemed emotionless, but I picked up on a little amount of hurt that he was feeling. I clenched one of my fists. If he was hurt, maybe he should have listened to me first...
"I want..." I started to say, looking between all three of them. My mouth became dry. I grew shy. I wanted to run away; I wanted to hide, be anywhere but here.
"We don't got time for this," Jackson grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hurry the fuck up before we just leave."
I flinched back, not liking the tone that he had used with me. "I miss you, guys," I confessed, feeling tears threaten to spill from my eyes. "I'm not a backstabbing friend, I promise. Please just listen—"
"We miss you too," Michael spoke up, interrupting me. Tears fell from my eyes as I looked at him. He was smiling, but it was sad. My whole body shook. I wanted to hug Michael.
"Speak for yourself," Jackson said, rolling his eyes and leaning over Elliot to punch Michael in the arm. "Have you forgotten what she's done?"
"Have you forgotten that Alexa is our friend and we should listen to her?" Michael shot back.
"Was our friend," Elliot said before Jackson could reply to Michael. He stood up, looking at me. His expression was cold and detached. "She's not our friend anymore." Elliot was looking at me, but had said that to Michael. Then he said this to me: "We want nothing to do with you anymore. Just leave us alone."
My lip trembled, tears pouring from my eyes.
"You tell her, El!" Jackson encouraged.
"Don't call me that," Elliot said, sitting back down.
I looked at Michael, to see if he was still on my side, but he simply avoided looking at me.
I wiped my eyes and tried to stop the tears from falling some more.
I turned and ran. I may have just lost the only friends I've ever had for good.
"Alexa!" I hear.
When I left the cafeteria and entered the hallway, I stopped. I turned to see Ryder rushing toward me. Blake and Ethan were following behind him, unfortunately.
"Y-yeah?" I said.
"Have you been crying?" Ryder asked worriedly. "What happened?"
I stared at him. I knew my eyes must have been red and puffy, but at this point, I didn't care if these guys saw me in this state. This was my least concern.
Ethan scrunched up his nose. "Ew, crying does not look good on you," he said, playfully.
That almost made me crack a smile.
Almost, being the key word. I felt numb.
Ryder elbowed Ethan and asked me again, "What happened."
"Nothing," I answered.
Blake shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Alexa, I'm sorry for putting you through hell," he said.
Now that caught me off guard.
I stared at him. "I accept your apology." I'm not about to forgive him though. Maybe one day I will. But not yet.
"Can you tell us what happened?" Ryder pressed. "I can tell it's not nothing."
I stared at my stepbrother coldly. "Fine, I'll rephrase it," I told him. "None of your business."
Blake and Ethan exchanged surprised looks.
"I—" Ryder blinked, looking at a loss for words. "Alexa—"
"Bye," was all I said before walking away.
***
The blood gushed down my leg. I sat in the bathtub, watching it. I was bleeding way more than the first time. I kept putting the razor back on my leg.
Water poured on my head. My entire body, really. It washed the blood down the drain. I was taking a shower and when I went to shave, the razor was already in my hand, and I couldn't help myself.
I smiled.
What's the worst that could happen?
I put the razor back to my leg and made another cut.
I have complete control over this.
I can stop when I want to.
I watch the blood go from my leg to the drain, smiling wider.
Perfect.
•••
After getting out of the shower, I walked into the living room.
I saw all of my stepbrothers crowding around the couch. I suddenly realized that they were surrounding Ryder. Zach was expecting his leg. Cameron, Justin and Jason all looked worried.
I walked over there just in time to hear Zach say, "Well, it's not broken or even sprained. Just sore."
Everyone let out breaths of relief and Ryder muttered, "Thank fuck."
"What's going on?" I questioned, stepping forward nervously.
To my surprise, Ryder sent me a venomous look. He stood up, walking toward me, limping a little on his left leg. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "You bitch," he seethed.
I blinked. What...?
"Hey, what?" Cameron said. "Ryder, don't call her that—"
Ryder unfolded the piece of paper.
"She pushed me off those stairs," Ryder tells his brothers, his eyes still firmly set on me.
"What..."
"What are you talking about?" Justin questioned.
"Alexa wouldn't do that!" Cameron protested.
Zach and Jason exchanged looks of confusion.
"Look at this then," Ryder said, holding the paper up.
What I saw sent shivers down my spine.
You got what you deserved
-Alexa <3
P.S. I've never liked any of you.
Tears welled up in my eyes. No, not again. This can't happen again. I didn't write that note. I didn't push Ryder off of any stairs. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could utter any words to defend myself, Zach stepped forward and slapped me right across the cheek.
My cheek stung. Tears escaped my eyes and slid down my face. "You got what you deserved," Zach said bitterly, repeating what the note had said in a mocking way.
"I never liked you either," Jason said, hurt swimming in his brown eyes.
"I didn't write that," I said. "Please believe me."
"Just shut the fuck up," Cameron boomed. "Just shut up, dumb fucking bitch."
My throat closed up. I cried harder. I opened my mouth, but I couldn't speak. All five of my brothers were staring at me in venom. Just like my ex friends did.
This is happening again.
I couldn't even find words. My body wasn't even allowing words to form. I turned abs rah, fleecing to my room.
I pulled out my razor from my dresser and sliced my arm, blood dripping onto the floor. I cried hard, heartbroken sobs. I cut my arm a few more times before throwing the razor across the room.
I watched as the blood trailed down my arms. This was the first time cutting my arm instead of my leg, but I didn't care. It was the easiest part of my body to access.
I sniffled, grabbing a jacket. It wasn't cold outside, but I needed to hide my arm. I rushed out of the window, jumped onto the tree and slid down.
I ran.
I ran into the street and I continued running. I was heartbroken, filled with so much despair. I had no idea where I was going, but I just ran.
Until I bumped into a body and fell to the ground.
"Alexa, are you okay?"
It was Benny. I nearly sobbed some more. He's the only one I have left.
I stood up and looked at him. "Everyone hates me." My eyes were glassy. I was vulnerable.
"I don't hate you," Benny says, cupping my face with his hand. "Your stepbrothers were mean, weren't they?"
I blinked.
"I never told you I had stepbrothers."
"Yes you did, remember?"
I shook my head and backed away. "Benny... how did you know...?" My eyes widened. "You wrote that note.... Didn't you? My friends. My step brothers. They only started hating me... after you entered the picture."
I felt sick.
Benny grabbed m wrist, his nails digging into it. I winced. "Benny, let go," I told him.
"I did you a favor, Al." Benny gritted his teeth.
I pulled away.
"I'm breaking up with you."
"No, you're no—"
But I ran.
Back to my house, tears streaming down my face.
***
I wrote letters.
Suicidal letters, to my friends, my stepbrothers, even to Ethan and Blake. I don't want to Live anymore.
And even if everyone hates me, I wanted to say good bye.
Then I climbed out of my window once again.
This time, I won't come back.