Post by {Kyle-Dasha} on Dec 24, 2008 11:19:23 GMT -5
so what if you can see, the darkest side of me?
no one will ever change this animal you made me become.
It was strange, people saw him. People actually saw him. They smiled and waved, some actually knew his name. A few girls had giggled when he passed and he had smiled politely, a few guys had given him the head nod and he had done it as well. People actually knew who he was, and even those who didn’t still chatted with him, asked how his summer went. Small talk was new to him. He found it stupid and irritating, but it was new. One kid had asked him how he liked Stewart and if he needed a tour. Kyle was a bit taken aback. Did he look new? He then mentioned to the boy that he had sat in front of him for a whole year in English.
He was smiling on the outside but crying on the inside. It was awful. He had no Sammie. Sammie. Was. Gone. She wasn’t dead, she just didn’t want him. That made it worse, so much worse. He was taking his pills, not to the point of being dull, but he was taking them. He even had a full bottle in his pocket. Still, sometimes even if he took the whole dose the voices would pierce he thoughts, which were already buzzing around uncontrollably. There was one way, only one way to still those thoughts and see clearly.
The blade. Sammie would never know how easy it was for him to stop. He had her, he felt alive, he didn’t need to be hurt anymore. Now she was gone and he had no one else to comfort him but a sharp piece of metal.
He lightly touched the box cutter in his pocket. Dasha trusted him with sharp objects now, even when he told her Sammie and left. She had simply handed him the box cutter and mumbled ‘idiots’ under her breath.
He made his way up to the rooftop and felt the warm air push against him as he sat near the edge. He stared at the horizon and then closed his eyes. Like he always did he willed his thoughts to be silent, he willed them to stop and just relax. It didn’t happen. So like always he reached into his pocket and pressed the cold metal to his wrist.
He cut a little deeper then he should have and let out a gasp as his eyes flew open. Everything was so clear, so lucid. The world seemed so clear is almost hurt his eyes. He smiled. His thoughts, the voices they had all just stopped, everything just stopped as he took it in. Soon there was fuzzing around his vision. He was loosing the clarity! He took his blade and cut again, then admired, then cut, then admired.
It had never occurred to him that anyone would intrude upon his horrible cycle or that his diary would slip out of his bag. He didn’t notice that important fact, of course. After he had made a few fresh cuts he picked up his bag and left, leaving his diary behind.
