I've always pondered on deaths door, but he's never opened. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life.
I want to be in my suit, in my coffin, in the ground and my soul to be gone. I've been wa...
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I twist and turn my torso, glancing at myself in the mirror of my rooms bathroom. The bruises caused from father that I would usually see daily is completely gone. The only marks left on my body are scars I've had for years. Such as my previous attempt from when I was fifteen.
The six white lines are bold and deep, but little did I know that you have to go vertical to end your life. I recall breaking my sharpener to get the blade out before slicing my wrist three times on each arm... horizontally.
I laid on my white sheets waiting for my vision to blur as I "bled out." Unfortunately, I woke up the next morning with my sheets stained with red lines and my wrists dried with blood. It was the most disappointed I've ever been.
It was the first time I forced myself to wear sleeves to cover my arms no matter how much the fabric picked at my skin. The scars never disappeared like I hoped it would, but my parents never noticed.
The other scars on my body are from surfing or from my childhood. My personal favourite are my knee and elbow scars from all the times I would fall off my skateboard. I have so many until my mom bought me elbow and knee guards.
My eyes move up to see my overgrown brown hair that looks dirty and frizzy. My brown eyes look like they have already been killed. My skin is dull. There is no light. Not a single spark.
I'm empty.
My gaze moves to the AC/DC t-shirt thrown onto the table by the sink. I grab it and throw it over my head before I leave the bathroom with my crutches.
I immediately see Jasper quickly stuffing something into his pillowcase. I assume it's the cigarettes he keeps hidden and sometimes shares with me. "Finally! You took forever in the bathroom." I laugh lightly, moving towards my bed. "How does it feel to finally get the brace off?" He asks.
I move my left leg around, hearing my knee click. "Rad! I cannot wait to get the cast off my other leg."
He stands up slowly, opening the shared closet to grab a t-shirt, but when he sees his side has absolutely no other clean t-shirts. "You can take one of mine." He grabs an unfolded graphic blue tee before covering his body.
He jumps onto his bed happily. "What's your plans for summer?" He asks, leaning back onto his bed.
At this time of the night when we're both not tired, we speak about random stuff. We would've played games on my phone, but Holly magically found it and CONFISCATED it! I'll only get it back next week when my parents pick me up to come back home. "I'm moving back to Portugal, you?"
He shrugs. "I would've went to a summer camp again, but I'm too old now so I'm becoming a camp counsellor."
"My parents forced me to got to camp once." I say, pulling my blanket off my bed and pace it back on as it's more comfortable that way. "Like band camp?" I shake my head. "Worst." I emphasise. "Theatre camp?"
