IX. Reasons

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Memories are often very painful. Especially the most memorable ones.

Why is that?

I've always assumed that it's simply due to the fact that painful memories can be cause for change, whether it be big or small.

Everyone who saw the event that changed my life would all tell you that it was an accident or that I did it myself. It was neither. It was a winter day that it happened.

I let out a yelp as I was shoved against the wall. My vision blurred a bit, but went straight back to normal barely a second after.

"G-go bother someone else," I say with my tiny voice. It wasn't at all convincing and was quite shaky, but that just went to show how I felt.

"And why would we do that," one of the two girls before me had asked. I bit my lip and looked at the ground, unable to come up with any reason to tell them.

The other girl simply laughed at that before speaking up, "Not like she could if she had a reason. Damn mute can barely even talk if she wanted to."

Why can't they just leave me alone for once? Unfortunately, this is no novel. This is no movie or TV show where a heroic and selfless knight would stop them to help me. Perhaps if I wish it enough, such a thing may actually occur.

I pressed my back against the wall, as if I could vanish from their sight. The first girl smiled at my attempt and pulled something from her pocket, making me press my back as much against the wall behind me as I possibly could.

"Perhaps," the first girl spoke up. "Perhaps we should teach you a lesson, too. For snitching on us." I shivered at the coldness in her voice and looked between the two.

One of them pressed something cold and metallic to my neck. Something I knew all to well. I was visibly shaking from the situation, but it wasn't like I could do anything to get out of it.

The girl kept the knife to my neck, her expression telling me to 'speak of I want out.' And that's exactly what I did.

"Leave me al- ah!" I fell to my knees as a sudden pain sprouted from where she had had the blade. Both of them stepped back and immediately started arguing with each other.

I shut my eyes tightly, feeling my throat becoming seemingly narrower, making it increasingly harder to breathe. I eventually blacked out, but I don't remember when.

All I remember was waking up in a white room with people around me before blacking out again. This cycle repeated itself over the course of three days, as I was told.

I wish I could explain more, but I don't remember anymore than this. I wish I did, but there's only so much memory can do in this field.

I clenched my fists and looked at the floor.

If only, were my only thoughts as I dug in my pocket. I pulled out something small, causing a few surprised gasps. I pressed a small button and a blade flipped out of it.

Raven was the one to speak up at this moment. "Hey, put that away," she says with a firm voice. I ignored her and pressed the switchblade to my wrist, looking up.

Raven grabbed my arm and yanked it, making me drop the blade. I stared blankly at the floor, hundreds of thoughts flying through my head. Despite this, one thing remained the same: "They all hate me," I muttered under my breath. Though it came out as a whisper, considering the absense of my voice.

Raven heard my words and sighed at that. She held up one hand and held up all her fingers. She held down her middle and index finger, facing the palm at me.

I coughed at that suddenly, shaking my head. No, no, no. Repeated in my head as I backed up. The now dissipating crowd parted as I backed into it. My "father" simply stood there, dumbfounded.

I bit my lip and turned around before running off. 'You can't just say that so suddenly!' Is all I could think as I ran around the other students.

I kept a tight grip on the railing, looking down at those who stared up at me. My feet were halfway hanging over the edge, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore.

I hear a door slam open behind me. I didn't do much as glance back as a few voices called out. "There she is!" The loudest one said. I closed my eyes and loosened my grip on the rail that was as high as my stomach.

"Get away from there!" That familiar voice called out to me. I looked back to see a few students behind the infamous Raven. I sighed at that and turned around so that my heels were over the edge.

I mouthed a few words, knowing that Raven would catch it. ""I'm not listening to you anymore,"" I told her. I hated how bipolar she acted. She was so rude to me, then she was so nice. And then she turns around and says that!?

I glared at her and stayed silent... well as silent as a mute can be. Raven sighed at that and took a step closer. I loosened my grip in response. That got her to step back. At which I tightened my grip again.

You can talk to me from where you stand. I'm sure she knows full well what'd happen if she got too close.

She looked at me with an expression akin to fear. If she can convince me away from my predicament, so be it. Raven breathed out a sigh and held up her hands.

Like before, she started moving her hands in intricate patterns, talking to me through that. ""You don't have to do this. You've got to have something to live for."" She emphasises the 'something' by lingering on that word.

I shake my head in response, my lie and hesitation clear as day. I do have one thing to live for.

Raven sighs at that, visible disbelief showing on her face. ""Nothing? No friends? No hobbies?"" I flinched at that and blinked. I looked away, not wanting to see any more. Or, perhaps I do, and this is merely a lie.

Why does she suddenly care so much?

Just yesterday she was driving a blade into my thigh.

I lifted one foot and held it over the air, getting gasps and murmurs in return.

"Kid, stop!" Raven yells at me. I blew out a sigh and climbed over the railing. I hate the effect that just a few words hold.

I walked over to Raven's side and whispered in her ear. "All I have to live for is my mom and art," I tell her. A whisper without voice sounds different than a whisper with voice believe it or not.

Air has to travel around your vocal cords, making them vibrate in such a way. Without them, there is little vibration which makes whispering seem more monotone than it could be.

I walked past the group and pulled the hood of a jacket over my head. Sliding my hands in my pockets, I headed out the school, despite there being over three hours of class left.

I don't believe in second chances in fate. Whether I'm telling truth or not... I'll leave that for you to decide.

I wiped my eyes as I walked, hiding my face underneath the shadows of my hood.

She's the one I live for because I love her. My mom is the main reason I haven't ended it.

That girl is definitely.

Bipolar.

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