Post by Cascadia on May 30, 2006 16:46:19 GMT -5
Jayde
She stared at the ground, as she walked home, her eyes dry. It'd been a few days since she'd seen him, and she had cried every night, waking from a dream to only find herself alone. Now she seemed to have no tears left. She felt as though crying had emptied her of all emotion, leaving her unable to feel anything. Every time she thought of him, she had used to cry, but now, she only took a deep breath and waited for a rush of emotions that never came. She didn't understand why she couldn't feel anything anymore. It wasn't like she had somehow become immune. She felt, but nothing for him.
Right now, she felt anger and frustration, and sadness, confusion, all clogging her mind and making her chest tight with pain. But it wasn't about him. It was the fact as hard as she might try, she couldn't bring up a memory of him. Only her dreams would allow her to slip back into his arms, hear him whisper in her ear. While she stood awake, it was like all her treasured moments had been stolen.
She opened her front door, letting herself in. Quietly, she slipped up the stairs and closed her bedroom door. She walked across her room, staring out her glass doors at the day. The sun had risen only a few hours ago, but already it was bright like the moon had never come the night before. She sighed and looked away. She had grown to hate the daylight, knowing with it came Aubrey leaving. She sat on the edge of her bed; trying to remember the last time she'd seen him. She could remember his face, remember his name, but everything else, it was like a void in her mind. She could remember seeing him, but not where they had met. Remember his voice, but not what had been said. She thought of kissing him, but couldn’t remember his taste, or the feel of his lips.
Tears came now, but not of sadness. She cried out of frustration with herself, pressing her hands to her head, trying to remember something, anything about him. She loved him, but why? Now she questioned herself and wondered why she had cared so much for him. Closing her eyes, she focused on his voice in her mind, and thought of his face. Getting a clear image of him in her mind's eye, she pictured him talking, smiling, and remembered some times of them together, remembered some things he had told her. I can read your mind, he had whispered after kissing her. She found him in her heart and cried for every moment she'd forgotten.
Not forgotten, she thought, but blocked. She felt anger fill her chest, burning her. Is he trying so hard to get rid of me? She looked around her room, feeling more then rejected. She felt disgusted with herself because of him turning her away to such an extent. She flipped open her drawer, and pulled out a razor. She could remember the look on Aubrey's face when he had seen her using it last. She hadn't meant to let him see her, but he had slipped in behind her, and seen what she was doing.
So long since I've cut. She slid her fingertip gently over her arm, feeling the uneven skin of scars covering her forearm. She felt the blade of the razor, still as sharp as when she had first used it. She pressed it to her arm gently, dragging it across slowly, her arm tingling where the cool metal touched. Then she brought it back across, pressing her finger down slightly, the blade slowly cutting into her skin. Once more, pushing as hard as she could, the metal stinging her as she clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. It was the ultimate high, her adrenaline flowing quickly through her veins as the blood poured from her wound. Relief spread through her chest as her arm began to numb, pain only slow throbs in her blood stream, broken and pumping slowly, taunting her. She hated Aubrey for leaving her, but couldn't stop loving him. She cut out of her hopeless love for him, and hated herself for doing it. Every time she picked up the razor, it was like her mind was screaming at her to stop, but her heart was telling her it would help.
Pressing the sharp, thin blade to her arm again, she gently held it there, then slowly, slid it over her arm, feeling the slight tingle as her nerves started to tremble. She pushed it down harder, scraping it faster along her skin, sawing chunks of flesh away. She saw her arm had a break in it, a deep trench, slowly flooding with blood. After a while, she could feel the knife enter her skin, underneath it, turning her world upside down.
A numb ache crawled up her arm, her skin prickling with a cold burn. The blood started seeping out of the cut, dripping down. Slowly dropping to the ground above her. She sat on her bed, watching it, fascinated, her nerves screaming. Feeling upside down and backwards, she ignored everything except the blood, pumping out the cut, in tune to the blood racing through her head. While through the numb, her mind felt everything. Her subconscious was aware of every movement, every drop of blood spilled. It was a thrill, exciting, deadly, relief, escape, every emotion, thrown together, exploding in the blood that pumped through her veins, willing her hand to grip the blade that was slicing away at her pain.
Finally she dropped the razor to her bed, the blood on the tip seeping into her sheet. She leaned backwards against the wall, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. She took deep breaths, trying to slow her heart down her heartbeat. She sat as still as she could, her arm still numb but movement sent shocks of pain up to her shoulder. Taking one last deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked down past her arm, feeling groggy, like she'd just woken up. She observed her arm, wiping her finger across the cut, smearing the blood. The skin was swollen already, and the blood was seeping out of the thin line, already being covered over by bright red blood.
It almost looks like paint, she thought staring emotionless at the cut. Like it's not real. She turned; looking at the doors with hope that Aubrey may be standing there, glaring at her. Ready to yell at her for being so stupid, asking her why she did this again, grabbing her arms, staring into her eyes, until she began to cry and tell him she was sorry. Then he would push her away, blame himself and leave.
She shook her head, disgusted with herself. She stood and angrily picked up the razor, but her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor, her hands dropping in front of her, catching her. She knelt on the floor, her head spinning. For a moment she thought she might pass out, but the feeling subdued and she stood again, slower and shakily. She pressed her hand to the wall, steadying herself. It wasn't working very well, and her head felt heavier. She let go of the wall, and walked towards the doors to her balcony. She was covered in pins and needles, her everything down from her chest was numb. She felt as if she were dreaming, stumbling across her room, her body moving too slow for her mind. Her hand reached out for the knob, but her vision was blurry and starting to double. She looked down at the floor, her arm swinging behind her as her vision faded, blackness seeping through the corners. She stared through the shadows and took one last breath as she fell through herself, her unconscious body landing on the bloodstained floor.
She stared at the ground, as she walked home, her eyes dry. It'd been a few days since she'd seen him, and she had cried every night, waking from a dream to only find herself alone. Now she seemed to have no tears left. She felt as though crying had emptied her of all emotion, leaving her unable to feel anything. Every time she thought of him, she had used to cry, but now, she only took a deep breath and waited for a rush of emotions that never came. She didn't understand why she couldn't feel anything anymore. It wasn't like she had somehow become immune. She felt, but nothing for him.
Right now, she felt anger and frustration, and sadness, confusion, all clogging her mind and making her chest tight with pain. But it wasn't about him. It was the fact as hard as she might try, she couldn't bring up a memory of him. Only her dreams would allow her to slip back into his arms, hear him whisper in her ear. While she stood awake, it was like all her treasured moments had been stolen.
She opened her front door, letting herself in. Quietly, she slipped up the stairs and closed her bedroom door. She walked across her room, staring out her glass doors at the day. The sun had risen only a few hours ago, but already it was bright like the moon had never come the night before. She sighed and looked away. She had grown to hate the daylight, knowing with it came Aubrey leaving. She sat on the edge of her bed; trying to remember the last time she'd seen him. She could remember his face, remember his name, but everything else, it was like a void in her mind. She could remember seeing him, but not where they had met. Remember his voice, but not what had been said. She thought of kissing him, but couldn’t remember his taste, or the feel of his lips.
Tears came now, but not of sadness. She cried out of frustration with herself, pressing her hands to her head, trying to remember something, anything about him. She loved him, but why? Now she questioned herself and wondered why she had cared so much for him. Closing her eyes, she focused on his voice in her mind, and thought of his face. Getting a clear image of him in her mind's eye, she pictured him talking, smiling, and remembered some times of them together, remembered some things he had told her. I can read your mind, he had whispered after kissing her. She found him in her heart and cried for every moment she'd forgotten.
Not forgotten, she thought, but blocked. She felt anger fill her chest, burning her. Is he trying so hard to get rid of me? She looked around her room, feeling more then rejected. She felt disgusted with herself because of him turning her away to such an extent. She flipped open her drawer, and pulled out a razor. She could remember the look on Aubrey's face when he had seen her using it last. She hadn't meant to let him see her, but he had slipped in behind her, and seen what she was doing.
So long since I've cut. She slid her fingertip gently over her arm, feeling the uneven skin of scars covering her forearm. She felt the blade of the razor, still as sharp as when she had first used it. She pressed it to her arm gently, dragging it across slowly, her arm tingling where the cool metal touched. Then she brought it back across, pressing her finger down slightly, the blade slowly cutting into her skin. Once more, pushing as hard as she could, the metal stinging her as she clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. It was the ultimate high, her adrenaline flowing quickly through her veins as the blood poured from her wound. Relief spread through her chest as her arm began to numb, pain only slow throbs in her blood stream, broken and pumping slowly, taunting her. She hated Aubrey for leaving her, but couldn't stop loving him. She cut out of her hopeless love for him, and hated herself for doing it. Every time she picked up the razor, it was like her mind was screaming at her to stop, but her heart was telling her it would help.
Pressing the sharp, thin blade to her arm again, she gently held it there, then slowly, slid it over her arm, feeling the slight tingle as her nerves started to tremble. She pushed it down harder, scraping it faster along her skin, sawing chunks of flesh away. She saw her arm had a break in it, a deep trench, slowly flooding with blood. After a while, she could feel the knife enter her skin, underneath it, turning her world upside down.
A numb ache crawled up her arm, her skin prickling with a cold burn. The blood started seeping out of the cut, dripping down. Slowly dropping to the ground above her. She sat on her bed, watching it, fascinated, her nerves screaming. Feeling upside down and backwards, she ignored everything except the blood, pumping out the cut, in tune to the blood racing through her head. While through the numb, her mind felt everything. Her subconscious was aware of every movement, every drop of blood spilled. It was a thrill, exciting, deadly, relief, escape, every emotion, thrown together, exploding in the blood that pumped through her veins, willing her hand to grip the blade that was slicing away at her pain.
Finally she dropped the razor to her bed, the blood on the tip seeping into her sheet. She leaned backwards against the wall, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. She took deep breaths, trying to slow her heart down her heartbeat. She sat as still as she could, her arm still numb but movement sent shocks of pain up to her shoulder. Taking one last deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked down past her arm, feeling groggy, like she'd just woken up. She observed her arm, wiping her finger across the cut, smearing the blood. The skin was swollen already, and the blood was seeping out of the thin line, already being covered over by bright red blood.
It almost looks like paint, she thought staring emotionless at the cut. Like it's not real. She turned; looking at the doors with hope that Aubrey may be standing there, glaring at her. Ready to yell at her for being so stupid, asking her why she did this again, grabbing her arms, staring into her eyes, until she began to cry and tell him she was sorry. Then he would push her away, blame himself and leave.
She shook her head, disgusted with herself. She stood and angrily picked up the razor, but her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor, her hands dropping in front of her, catching her. She knelt on the floor, her head spinning. For a moment she thought she might pass out, but the feeling subdued and she stood again, slower and shakily. She pressed her hand to the wall, steadying herself. It wasn't working very well, and her head felt heavier. She let go of the wall, and walked towards the doors to her balcony. She was covered in pins and needles, her everything down from her chest was numb. She felt as if she were dreaming, stumbling across her room, her body moving too slow for her mind. Her hand reached out for the knob, but her vision was blurry and starting to double. She looked down at the floor, her arm swinging behind her as her vision faded, blackness seeping through the corners. She stared through the shadows and took one last breath as she fell through herself, her unconscious body landing on the bloodstained floor.