Care For Me ✔️

F I F T Y - F I V E

— Trigger warning —
Depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts.

L E O

   I stared at my wrists, watching as the crimson liquid dripped onto the ceramic white sink top. The cool blade pressed against my veins counteracting the warmth of my now spilled blood.

   I pressed harder, trying to find a feeling within the self inflicted cuts. But to no avail; I felt nothing. I feel nothing. No pain, no stinging sensation, no dizziness — numb. I don't want to kill myself, not yet. I just want to feel something — something other than this anchor that's weighing me down. The only sound I could hear; other than the ringing in my ears — was the splash of my blood as it as it soaked the sleeves of my black hoodie, dripping off the sink top onto the cool tiles beneath my feet — in a twisted way, it was somewhat soothing.

   Adamo's words rang true; I am weak. If I truly wanted to rid my family of the burden that is me. Then I'd press the blade in, slice my wrists as deep as I could — be selfless and let them live without constant disappointment. Do they see me how he does? Of course they do.

What would it be like to die? Would I finally be free? The questions reply in my mind. If I died... would I finally feel happy? Nothing in life seems to make me happy. I thought once Lily was home; all my troubles would leave. I laugh bitterly at that, I don't think they'll ever leave me.

I turned on the faucet, running the cool water along my wrists, watching as the clear water turned a darkened shade of pink. I stayed there for what felt like hours — but was merely minutes — watching as the blood stared to congeal. I ran my smooth finger tips along the horizontal thick lines, the feeling reminding me that I failed.

Just kill yourself, Leo.

The voice in my head called, taunting me as if usually does. I sighed audibly, opening the door to the medicine cabinet, that was perched on the wall above the sink. I stared at the orange and white bottle, should I take them? I poured two of the filmed pills onto my palm, maybe they'll help? I popped the pills in my mouth, gagging as they stuck to my dry tongue. Grabbing a plastic cup from the cabinet, I filled it with water, downing the antidepressants before my mind could talk me out of it.

   Please help.

   I tuned on the shower, not bothering to turn up the temperature. I peeled myself from my — now sticky clothes, tossing them into the hamper before stepping under the shower head. The ice cold water hitting my pale skin, creating goosebumps, causing me to gasp. I stood still, not bothering to move, I couldn't. Fatigue fell upon me as I sunk to my knees, my eyes became blurred — from the shower water or my tears, I'm not sure which. I cupped my palm over my mouth, chocking back a sob that threatened to leave me throat. I just want to be normal. I don't understand why I feel like this, why can't I live a joyous life? Why is it a battle each day to just breathe. To just live.

I stayed in that kneeling position for a while, so long that my finger tips had pruned — showcasing my wrinkled skin. I pulled myself up, which took more effort than I cared to admit. Wrapping the fluffy towel around my body, I dried my bottom half, pulling on sweatpants, before running the towel along the water droplets on my top half, until my gaze caught sight of the mirror.

I stared at my reflection in the long bathroom mirror; my eyes are now red, visibly swollen, as though I'd been stung by a bee and had a severe reaction. My once tanned complexion has dimmed, my skin now a sickly shade of white. My lips are blue, probably due to the fact I'd just sat in freezing cold water for god knows how long.