This story is true with some twists of course to make it more interesting. it's about me, so if you dont like it keep it yourself.
You guys know the drill, don't get caught reading if your not old enough or its illegal. If u like it tell me. NEL114@aol.com. The fire cannot burn me so if you absolutely feel the need to flame me, do it all you want I'm immune. ENJOY!!
Anybody just not him Ch3: different
I wake up in tears. My face is covered in blood my arm is not seen.
Where are the arms that are supposed to hold me in comfort?
Too cool and hold to protect and keep strong. Alas they are not there.
The only comfort I find is the black handle and cold steel of the blood stained blade.
I try to fight it but NO, it's pull is just too strong I pick it up and start to cry.
Me crying the one who feels nothing apathy and all emotion in these eyes.
Am I to fall how dare I- Who has this much control over me? He does.
He controls me here's the knife slowly penetrating my body only hurting for a little while then its there I'm numb.
His pull is stronger than gravity and is as close as my breath. I love it! I hate it!
I love you, I hate you! I love you!
Now I'm dead.
I feel somebody else crying, screaming out in pain, but it's not me. I see myself being held by a guy whose face is not shown. I see myself being pulled both ends... then I snap.
I woke up and my room was dark, the only light being my alarm clock which read 2:00. And the moon shinning beautifully though my window and casting an eerie yet beautiful shadow on my wall. I was still holding Tony and my eyes hurt when I tried to rub them, I guess from all the crying.
I wonder if my mom even knocked on my door. I bet she doesn't even care. She' s always working and if she's not doing that she's out with her friends. I'm just something that happened because she decided not to make my "father" to wear a condom. I'm one big mistake just like my life. That's why I can never be happy. Because I was never meant to be here! I was never meant to be here! That reminded me of the dream being pulled apart.
I thought back to the dream. It really shook me. I rarely have dreams. I can barely remember any wet dreams now I'm having. I don't even know what kind it was. I didn't wake up screaming or scared. So it couldn't` have been a nightmare. But I didn't feel good either. So it wasn't all sunshine and happiness. I sat up and started thinking, determined to get some clue of what this means. Was my life finally going to change? Was I finally gonna be with him? And what about that new guy? Was it just my overactive imagination or was he really looking at me?
All this goes through my mind and before I know it my alarm's going off. Now usually I would push the snooze, wait a minute, my alarm went off. That means it's 7. I've been up five hours and I didn't even know it. What's wrong with me? I mean I've lost sleep over Derrick before but nothing like this. Maybe it 's the new guy. But I don't even know him: He could be just as bad as Derrick pretends to be or maybe even worse. Yea he's worse than Derrick. So I better keep my distance from him. Least I know Derrick cares about me. I think! I hope!
I force myself out of the comforts of my warm bed getting myself ready for today. Yea! time for school I think to myself. How do those cheerleaders do it? I mean be so fucking happy all the damn time. I mean it's like they have those damn smiles super glued then plastered on their faces. It's annoying to see someone so happy. It just makes me sick. But apart of my wishes I could wake up smiling, to look utterly stupid with a big ass grin on my face. But I can't. Anybody just not me.
I walk to the bathroom which is right across the hall from my room and start the shower. I get it just the right temperature, and then I start to pull off my pajama pants and beater. I notice my arm. Who could love me, these scars won 't go away. The only person or thing that will love me is that god forsaken knife. I feel it in my stomach a hunger pain, but much much different. It's hungry for something else. I try to get a hold on my self. Ah come on! Be strong! You can fight it! NO I can't. It always wins in the end. I shouldn't even bother to fight it.
I reach under the sink and grab a razor from the bag of razors. I undo the gauze and press the razor close to my right wrist but I don't start to cut just yet. I hold it there applying more pressure by the minute. I try to grasp hold of the feeling in my stomach. I start to drag the small but sharp blade slowly, painfully slow over my vein. I wonder if I just slice it once will I die? Will my mom walk in after a week and finally remember that she hasn't yelled her disappointment yet. I'm deep in thoughts and the more I think about it the harder I press.
When I cut I don't bleed that much. But this time I can feel it. I can feel my life draining and I don't care. I wanna die. I don't want to be here anymore. Would she even care if I died? Would she cry? Would he be sad? Will he waste a tear on me? I cut harder I feel more of the red stuff pouring out. Then I stop realizing that it's already gonna be hard to cover these. I didn't cry, not one single tear. Yesterday was for sorrow, today was for anger!
I step in the shower and let the water wrap me in a wet embrace. I close my eyes, imagine him holding me telling me everything's alright. But it's not and it feels twice as bad. I feel tears rolling down my face. I look down at the water going down the drain. It's not just water it's me, my blood, my tears. The drain represents me, it swirls and swirls but it inevitably falls. Just a matter if time. But when do I fall? Just a matter of time.
I wash myself and brush my teeth in the shower. I dry off while again staring at my body in the mirror. WHO ARE YOU! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU! I break down again. Sad! It's not that I'm yelling at myself, but I do this almost everyday.
After pulling myself from the bathroom, I go to my closet and look for my covers. Some people think I wear them just to be fashionable, but oh how wrong they are. I pick out a cutoff white sock with two black stripes on it for my left and of course my Linkin park wristband for my right.
It is now 7:40 and I have five minutes before I miss the bus. I jog to the bus stop and I see Danita (D). I wave at her and wonder why she's friends with me. I mean she's already popular because of Derrick. She's the younger sister of the starting quarterback and I'm me. And why is Eric my friend? He's not the quarterback but he's close enough. And I know the only reason why Marie is my friend is because of D. Do I really have friends at all? I feel it again. PAIN! If I died would anybody care? Well besides my mom wondering how much the funeral will cost and how much of her time it will take.
Put on the mask. Don't let it show. I think to myself as I make my way over to her. They're better off not knowing.
"Hey" I say and the smile forms on my face as if on cue.
"Mmmmm! Oh so you talking to me now?!". She said with a smile and mock anger.
"Huh, why wouldn't I be?" I'm so glad. I'm not straight. I don't think I could live with this every day. "What did I do?"
"Nigga did yo phone break or something?"
"Oooh yeah! I was supposed to call you. Shit my bad."
"You forgot about me, I'm hurt". She started wiping away tears that weren't there.
"Ahh what's happening to the world when they forget about D?" I teased.
The bus came right on time as always. Everything is so predictable. Me and D sat in our usual seats in the back and talked with all our peeps back there. I couldn't tell you a damned thing we talked about: I really wasn't paying any attention.
We arrive at school and did what we always do in the morning, talk to our friends, well D´s friends. I mean we talk and kid, but do they only talk to me because they feel they would be disappointing D if they didn't. My life sucks and I want to die.
Now is time for school. I feel different today, I don't know if it's good or bad. Knowing my luck probably bad. It feels like I just got here and its time for gym already. I get there a little early. I feel like a zombie. Going from class to class, doing my work but not really. It's like my body takes over and my brain just froze all activity. "Yay gym time" i thought "Let's sweat." " Oh boy I can't wait" says the kids of the world. "Time consuming and lame" says everyone else.
I'm changed. When I put my gym clothes on, I notice I still have the sock on. Should I take them off? I know eventually Coach Wylie will make me take them off. Coach Wylie is this sixty something coach who RETIRED like three years ago and he came back. He has all his hair surprisingly, but he walks a bit hunches over. He's not mean but not quiet either. Typical gym coach. Now to the problem at hand, the sock. He's gonna make me take it off. Oh well I will when he tells me. I walk out of the locker room and walk under the bleachers. I like it here isolated and quiet. I pull out a book and start reading. I sit and read. The bell rings.
"Harrison". I hear coaches voice. "Johnny." What can I say of him? He's a lot like Derrick but shorter and he's white. Even though he tries to hide it, Johnny is still white. If Johnny wasn't such an asshole he would be kinda cute. Well considering he has brown hair and blue eyes. I doubt anyone could be that bad with that combination.
"Here". Johnny Harrison. Derrick's "best friend" and one of my worst enemies. I know Derrick protects me from him. I think it's the only reason he treats me the way he does. If he doesn't Johnny will. And I'd much rather have Derrick than Johnny. Derrick protects me in a way.
"Jackson" no one answers. All is silent.
"Jackson" coach says it again but I don't feel like getting up.
"Has anybody seen Jackson?" Mr. Wylie asks the class. And who decides to open his big mouth: Johnny.
"The faggot offed himself", then "it's about time".
"He ain´t gay, I don't know why you always giving him shit". It was a girl's voice. I don't know her name but I recognize the voice. "And anyway I saw him earlier and he looked like he might've been sick." Why is someone standing up for me? I mean I don't even know her name.
"Well he wasn't on the checkout or nurses list so in my book that's skipping" Wylie said to the girl.
Although I really didn't want to get up I know I have to. I'd rather have gym than detention. I came from behind the bleachers. "I ain´t dead, sorry to disappoint you but I am pretty sick". I said the last part pointing to my head.
"Ahhhhhh!" I think I scared some people. Oops.
"Where the fuck did you come from?" asked Johnny.
"The grave" I said with no emotion at all. Now I know now who that girl is. She's always my partner during those evaluation things we have to take every week. Well I don't pick her she kinda volunteers. I don't know why.
"Alright, alright, everybody calm down". After he got everyone calmed. "It's about time to give me one good reason why I shouldn't mark you tardy?"
"Cause it would make me happy" I said softly. All eyes on me! I wonder what people see when they look at me. Are they staring because I'm different or because I just scared the shit out half of them? I wonder why that girl always looks at me.
"Well I'll think about it. Go to your number right behind Sasha" he says pointing to the girl "who stares". Then he looked at my arm and shook his head. "Jackson you can't wear that stuff in my gym" he says pointing to my left arm. I just look at it and my mind goes into panic mode. What if he makes me take it off in front of the class? What if he sees my scars? Then he'll go and tell my mom. What if??
All these thoughts were in my head and more. "Oh, so we cant wear socks now". I respond with a false bravado trying to cover my fears.
"You're right, as in on your feet. Put it in your locker". I walk back to the locker room. Relieved that he told me to put it in my locker, I had a spare hoody.
I walked towards my locker.
"FUCK!!" followed by a loud bang.
I slowed my pace trying to think who could that be. I don't recognize the voice. Whoever it was why would they be in the locker room this late. I was near the voice which sounded like it was at my locker. I neared my locker and prepared myself for the worst. This is Detroit after all. But when I got there it wasn't bad at all. It was the guy. It looked like he had waged war on his locker and from the looks of it he was losing.
"Need some help?" oh my god I just talked. Weird! I don't even know him.
"Huh" he looked at me and then at the ground, embarrassed. "Man what is it with these boogie ass lockers. I been trying´ the damned thing for like an hour". His voice wasn't as hard core as he looked. It wasn't soft either, it was perfect.
Yeah I know what he was talking about, I couldn't open mine for a week. So I got detention everyday for not dressing out. Ok, that's twice why I am so comfortable with him. The only person I felt this comfortable with is Eric. But he's straight.
"For real cuz, that's fucked up" he looked at me. I was captured in his gaze, those beautiful green eyes. His eyes!!!
I opened his locker and tried to teach him, but he still needed help. I didn' t understand all the school in our city use the exact same lockers. Maybe he was from a different city or state. Yea I guess so.
After he opened his locker he put his stuff in and started to change. And I put my hoody on so that I didn't have to take my sock off. When we were all changed and headed for the gym he said something that shocked me.
"I like the way you dress, it's hot!" he said with a smile, not a regular smile but a smile of seduction. We stopped walking. He looked at me. Those eyes, those deep green eyes. I feel like I know him, I don't know how but I do.
Huh, now it was my turn to be embarrassed. Did he just say I looked hot? What if he's like me? I mean he's hot and he seems like a cool person. No he's probably just fucking with me. When most people see the way I dress they say it looks weird. But he said it was hot. What about Derrick. But those eyes!
T.B.C AN I really like to hear what people think about the story. nel114@aol.com and my aim is the same. also i am well, was and kinda still is a cutter. if there is anybody out there that needs to talk im HERE.