book 1- mortal she, immortal he.

9.

AN: this chapter is gonna be crazy. sorry in advance. (EXTREME SH) I'll warn you when it's about to get rlly bad

8 came, and I told Sheila I was going to a party. In my pockets I have my phone and headphones, I wore a black jacket and grey cargo pants with stars on them. 

"Bye!" I say, so did Sheila. I walk out the door and get hit by a cold breeze that makes my hair swoosh back behind my shoulders. It seems like one of the coldest nights. I start walking to the pond, my headphones in my ears as I listen to (favorite song/favorite playlist).  I see my breath in the air and I put my hands in my pockets. I kick the chunks of ice on the ground until I finally arrive at the pond. I sit down on a bench and stare up at the sky for a moment. The beautiful stars light up the sky. I felt nostalgia hit me like a bulldozer. When I was a little kid, I would watch the stars with my old friend. 

As time passed by, I knew that all my friends were at the party. And I knew now that I had no way to contact them unless I showed up at the party because it was very unlikely they were on their phones. And then all those thoughts started again. Letting out shaken breaths, I tried to calm myself and close my eyes, but it didn't work. I remember Kenny taking Kyle's switchblade away from me. I felt the urge to take it back. To ruin my skin and make it worse than it already is. I thought of a horrible plan to get that blade back, but if Kenny found out, he would lose my trust. So would Kyle. I would be a terrible friend and a horrible cousin. I shake my head, trying to get the voice out of my head to pursue the plan. 

I pull up my sleeve and look at the art I made the other night. I ran my fingers over the cuts slowly, feeling pain erupt in my arm and shock me. If I break into his house, he won't find out. Get the blade back. You need to let it out. I notice that I am digging my nails into my cuts, and I yelp quietly. I let out of my arm and stand up. Breaking in won't do much harm. And hurting myself won't harm anyone but me. I walked to Kenny's house cautiously, and since he had a one-story home, it was easy for me to get into his room. I look around his messy room for the blade. It wasn't long before I found it in the drawer of his nightstand. Finally. I switched it open, and it made a small sound of metal sliding against metal. 

MAJOR TW!!!

Without any hesitation, I ran the blade from my forearm down to my wrist. I let out a loud "FUCK!" but immediately clasped my hand on my mouth to stay quiet. Now, this was the worst I've ever fucked up, but I took the blade and dug it deep into my already bleeding wound. It looked like some little kid had drawn stitches on my arm, but bigger than you would imagine. I let out a sob, trying my best not to scream. This could kill me. I don't mind, but right now I still feel the need to live. I let the blade drop to the floor as a pool of blood gushed out of my arm. My body shook as I fell to the ground. I saw a towel on the floor and wrapped my fingers around it weakly. I was losing blood quickly. I took the towel, hoping it was big enough, and wrapped it around my arm tightly. Wincing at the pain; my hands were shaking. I snatched the blade and wiped it on the towel, setting it back in the drawer I retrieved it from. I go through the same window I came in from and jumped out, I feel myself about to pass out. As I walk on the sidewalk slowly, I look at the ground, my vision ever so slowly getting blurrier. I try to stabilize myself, but I only hit the ground. And my vision goes blank.

I wake up suddenly, gasping. I look around, bright light stings my eyes and I close them. And once I adjust to the light, I realize I'm in a hospital. I jolt up, my eyes wide and my arm pale like I'm dead. Everything on me is visible, all my old scars, marks, and bruises. I was only wearing a gown that the hospital provides you. I had an IV in my right arm, and on my other one was a bandage covering up my recent cuts. It wrapped my whole arm tightly. I notice that my phone and headphones are gone. I then see a doctor walk in and close the door. He sits down beside me with a clipboard and papers that I couldn't see on it. 

"(Y/n), good morning. We're happy to see you wake."

"Why am I...how did..."

"Don't worry, someone found you lying on the sidewalk and brought you here. He said your arm was all cut up so we tried all we could to keep you alive. We called your parents and..." I completely felt out of it when they mentioned my parents. They called them?

"(Y/n)." The doctor interrupted my thoughts and I admittedly gave him my attention back. "You seem scared, your parents didn't bother to come if that's what got you so stressed. We interviewed them, they're arrested now after they confessed some stuff, they were pretty wasted so lucky for you. But now we need to call your current guardians. Who are they?"

I stare at him for a moment, then rip the IV out of my arm and all the other wires attached to me. I jumped out of the stretcher and the doctor immediately got up too. He tried to grab me but I kicked his knee back and it seemed like it broke. I can't let anyone know this happened. 

"Shit!" He yelled as he hit the floor, groaning and screaming because of his now broken leg. I run out of the hospital, worried eyes following me. I hear some doctors call 911. I rush out of the building and into the shining daylight. It's cold enough to give me frostbite with only a gown on with neither shoes nor pants. I run until my legs fall limp, and I lie on the snow. Trembling from the cold. I knew I wasn't able to bail out of this, was it worth the try? This wasn't a suicide attempt, and I could just lie to the police to get out of this and say I just don't have the money, but it's still nerve-wracking. I hear sirens near me, and I close my eyes and cop cars pull up. Policemen find me, grab me, hold me in their arms, and place me in the backseat of a car. I feel the car start advancing.

"Kid." I hear.

"Yes?" I open my eyes, I see him looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"Why'd you run?" He didn't sound professional, but that's South Park for you.

"I don't have the money."

"What happened?"

"Someone tried to rape me, and he slashed my arm open when I refused." I lied. 

"Who?'

"Couldn't tell. It was too dark."

The rest of the ride to the police station was quiet.

When we arrived, they called Sheila and Gerald after getting their names out of me.