This is her pose btw in what I mean by she's sitting on the top of the couch. Tw: Self harm, mention of self harm
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Chapa clicked the button on her chair sending her up to the man's nest, eyes immediately shooting to the boy who was watching TV on his tablet. "Hey bose." She got up from the chair and went to sit on the top of the man's nest couch next to him. "Hey Chapa." He said eyes lifting off the screen for a moment then going back to the video he was watching.
As she saw him put the tablet down she had just guessed that his video was over, "So what are you doing tonight." He said while moving up to sit next to her. "Um, nothing why." She looked up at him, dragging her eyes away from the floor. "Well my dad having this stupid fancy party and I need somewhere to stay." She immediately caught on and looked away wanting to say no but, not gonna lie, felt bad. "Oh- did, did I say nothing? I, I meant um my, uh dad....and i are...going to a, a football game."
"Oh, who?" "Umm.. okay fine I'm not going to a football game." He got tired of her looking away from him so he got down from the top of the seat to sit in front of her arms settling on her knees. "Whats wrong?" She finally looked at him, "you just...can't come over. Okay?" He nodded, understanding that maybe he asked a little too late. So they left the topic as everyone else started showing up. __________________
Chapa walked up to her bathroom, looking up into the mirror. Blood rushing down from her nose as she bent down to wash her nose off. "Ahh shit." She stood up and dried her face and then threw the rags on the counter and walked out of the bathroom, in which she heard her mother, father, and little sister playing a board game downstairs. She simply rolled her eyes and continued walking to her room.
She wasn't allowed to come to game night tonight since she had disobeyed her father, earning herself a punch across the face.
Anyways, she walked over to her bed and sat down, looking around for a moment before her eyes landed on her arms. Waiting a minute before she walked over to her closet. She began reaching up to grab the little jewelry box sitting upon a shelf, then opening it and lifting up a secret compartment to eye the blade from a box cutter, laying there.
She thought for a moment before grabbing it and the bandaids next to it just in case. She then made her way over to her bed to sit on it and set down the things she had previously grabbed. She grabbed the blade and lifted her arm and dragged it across her arm,
One scar
She shrieked out of pain and wanted to cry, but she didn't.
Two scars
She had prepared herself this time, but it still hurt really had.
Three scars
The feeling still caught her off guard but she was a little more used to it.
