The Smile Has Left Your Eyes

Chapter Eight

Aspen

I stopped picking at my wrists, my sleeves now stained with blood. My arms went slack as I continued to walk away from my house, my eyes not once leaving the night sky. The stars twinkled—they were dazzling. Even though they weren't living things, they looked to be filled with emotion. The vivid colors reminded me of nothing but joy. Happiness. A feeling I couldn't seem to recall.

And I didn't want to. I wanted this emptiness I felt, this never-ending despair, to take me. To pull me down to the very depths of the sea and drown me. Drag me down to a place where I would never get up, and eventually, wouldn't need to.

My dried tears made the skin around my eyes feel strained and tight.

Well... I'd lasted over five years.

I'd reached my limit.

I'd endured enough—this had gone on long enough.

There was no reason for me to keep going, and now I just wanted it all to stop. I just needed it all to end...

What was I even living for? Because of hope? What bullshit. What was I hoping for? That baseball would carry me out of all my issues? That a sport would somehow rescue me?

And Rafe... what was I trying to get out of him? What was I hoping for? That he'd magically accept me? Dare I say, even fall in love with me?

How unrealistic... I should've woken up from that dream a long time ago.

It had been stupid of me to believe that one day everything would be okay. That my life would suddenly become perfect... that I could miraculously become happy.

Reality wasn't that kind.

I continued to walk. Where I was going, I didn't know. I just kept on, the black hole in my heart forcing my legs to get me as far from hell as they could.

I had no sense of time, and with no phone on me, no way to tell.

My mind, normally a chaotic mess of self-pity, was now empty. It wasn't my first time experiencing something like this; whether it was mental peace or overwhelming numbness, I couldn't be sure. But I was okay with it. My mind didn't hurt, and that was okay.

Cars rushed past me on the street, my hair flying around in every direction. The sharp wind was somehow pleasant. Tranquil. The loose sleeves of my shirt flapped around, grazing the raw scars, but I welcomed the pain. It was just another distraction.

A car's horn knocked me out of my daze. I slowly turned my head around to see my mom's car.

Oh.

She parked it on the side of the road and dashed out. She opened the door to the back seat and pulled out a thick jacket, rushing over to me and throwing it on my shoulders. "It's cold out here, so first, put that on."

I stayed silent as I watched her go back to the car to grab more things. I didn't move to put the jacket on and it fell to the ground; I was still, with a glazed over expression on my face. Why bother faking it anymore? I had nothing to hide; there was no longer a reason to pretend to smile.

She yanked two bags out of her car, both landing on the sidewalk next to her. "I was able to grab your baseball bag, and I put some clothes in another. I wasn't able to get your backpack. I'm sorry." She went into the passenger side and pulled out my phone, wallet, and a charger out of the side of the door. She walked up to me and grabbed my icy hands, bringing them up and placing my items in them. "I'm sorry," she whispered with tears pricking her eyes. "I tried to convince your father, but he won't change his mind. He doesn't know I'm here... but I wanted you to know that I can help you. I can still get you to my friend's camp. He doesn't have to know."