Sixty-eight | Lilah

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Throwing my pillow across the room I scream into my blankets

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Throwing my pillow across the room I scream into my blankets. He's barely responding to me anymore.

I'm not sure if it's because I rejected him or he's genuinely busy but it's been three days since we've spoken. I know it's not a lot so I initially assumed he was busy since it's summer. Now I'm worried because he's always miraculously doing something whenever I reach out to him.

It's making me feel like shit because I think I hurt him more than I intended. Not that I was intending on hurting him at all but I'm just scared. When I told him that he was my 'dream guy' that wasn't me trying to be nice. He's everything I've ever wanted from someone but I'm scared and it makes me feel like a fucking coward.

Younger me would be yelling at me for rejecting someone like him but my brain is refusing. I'm terrified that I'm going to mess it up and ruin the one relationship I actually want to keep safe. He's the only person I've ever been able to relax around and I hadn't even noticed it until we started talking again. I always had my guard up around my old friends, even when I thought I was having fun.

'Fuck!' I curse myself out but mixing yelling and crying together makes it extremely difficult to breath so I end up coughing.

Making an attempt to recollect myself it becomes harder and harder for the air to reach my lungs. Gently rubbing my throat with my hand to sooth myself it doesn't help so I take one deep breath. Feeling my throat squeeze it's has if someone is grasping my throat so I move my hand but the feeling remains.

'No no no no no-,' I squirm when I feel as if they're trapped air bubble under my skin.

Opening my bedside drawer I instinctively search for something sharp before stopping myself when I realize what I'm looking for. Shutting it, the last thing I want to do is to actually find something. I've been able to distract myself for so long and I don't want to ruin that right now.

Running my hands through my hair I pause. Though my room hasn't been clean recently, I always keep my dresser clean. It's where I keep everything and it took me way more time than it should've to find all my blades. Rummaging through the drawer again I notice that they're all gone. Creasing my forehead I flinch when I hear my door creak.

'I threw them all out.' Diana crosses her arms. 'When I cleaned your room for you that one time...you had so many of them in so many different places Lilah.'

Keeping eye contact with her I don't know what to say so I don't say nothing. Deciding to get up instead I go to all my backup spots but they're all gone. Behind the dresser, in the pockets on my jackets on the hangers, under my mattress, all of them are gone.

'Where are they?' I ask. I don't know why I asked since it only incriminates myself as I have no intention of using them.

Well I don't think so at least.

'You sound like you're going to cry.' She frowns but I just look away.

'I'm just struggling to breath right now.' I suddenly become self aware of the short breaths I'm taking.

Feeling the intention of me trying to find my blades switch from confusion to desperation, I try to wave the thoughts away but they act as a boomerang. The feelings keep coming right back, no matter how far I throw it. Turning to look for the blades again I feel Diana wrap her hands around me which only grows the lump in my throat so I wriggle out of her hands to stop it.

'Okay just give my my sharpeners back.' My voice rasps. 'I need those for school Diana- you even took my scissors. Where is my pencil case in general?'

'I'm not an idiot Lilah. I cleaned out so many sharpener plastics because you ripped out the blades so of course I took the remaining sharpeners.' She refuses. 'Also for what reason would you need them at the beginning of summer? I've never seen you study this early in.'

I know she's trying to help but this is fucking unbearable. Even before I was caught I had been trying to heal at my own pace. I know I wasn't doing it effectively but I was managing slowly and they was progress. I had died down and in a few weeks or months from now I knew I would've gotten myself back together. Now I've been completely cut off all at once and I feel like ripping my eyes out of my head.

Opening my mouth to rebuke I don't say anything because I know how I'll sound. The last thing I want is to grow concern of my family members. I liked it better when the only person getting harmed was me.

'Okay.' I try to sound as steady as possible.

'Lilah I know you could always just replace them but mom knows that they're gone. If she finds new ones then...' she trails off and I can't help but bite my tongue. I hadn't even considered replacing them but all I'm focused on is how mom knows.

'You told her- What the fuck?'I accuse more than I ask. My mother gets worried so easily, she's the last person that needed to know about my blades.

She admitted to removing the blades she never once mentioned mom. It's bad enough that Diana saw them but mom? I don't want her to stress, I don't want anyone to be stressing over me. Especially my family, I want them to be happy and to not to be concerning over my issues. It was fine knowing that I was the only person who I was hurting. Now I'm also hurting the only people who genuinely cared for me and it makes me feel like the worst person to ever exist. It makes me feel selfish.

'I didn't tell mom about your blades.' She denies it and I believe her since she has no reason to lie, 'She saw me throwing them away and at first she ignored it until I went to the bin for the third time which is when she asked and I ignored her question because I knew that she already figured out where it was coming from- where else would they be a bunch of random blades.'

Forcing myself to calm down this is embarrassing. I can't even get mad at her because she's right and I don't want her to think I'm doing bad. She might get worried and actually tell our mother.

'I'm sorry.' I pick at my nails to distract myself, 'I thought mom knew so I freaked. That's all, I didn't mean to yell at you,'

'It's okay.' She sighs. 'I'm just worried for you,'

'And I'm just tired so I've been tense.' I lie. 'I might actually take a nap.'

'Actually mom wanted me to ask you about school.' She stops me before I can leave. 'She was considering hiring some professional to home-school you for senior year since the stress might make you worse so she wondered if you'd prefer working in your own space,'

Staring at her I've never heard of such a liberating situation to be in for a year. I've never considered the fact that I could just not go back to school and the idea of that has never seemed more reliving. Never seeing Jasmine again seems like euphoria. If I never have to see any of them again it would be amazing.

'I can do that?' The relief in my voice is so clear that it makes her smile. 'Yeah- yes tell mom that I would like that.'

'Yes I'll tell her,'

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