Chapter 3

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I walked through the front door, hearing my parents arguing over who knows what, as they always do. Probably money or something. Suddenly, I heard a crash come from the kitchen. I ran to it. When I got there, I saw my mother sitting on the kitchen table shaking, my father standing next to the stove pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut, and a glass shattered in the middle of the floor.

"What's going on?" I asked, concerned.

"Nothing Haven. This is between me and your mother. Now go to your room. Now!" He screamed.

I grabbed my bag and went up to my room. I pulled out my folder and looked at the sheet Mrs.Preston gave us for the project. I was dreading this whole week. Matt coming over scares the hell out of me, but I was kind of excited to see him. I love him, but he hurts me, then I forgive him. I shouldn't, but I do. I don't understand, and I can't explain. There was a knock at the door and my mother came in.

"Are you okay honey?" She asked.

"Yeah. Are you okay? You looked pretty shaken up down there." I said.

"Yeah. Just some money problems. That's it." She said.

"Okay. He didn't hurt you did he?" I asked.

"No, sweetheart. I'm fine. Really." She said.

"Okay." I said.

She walked out of my room and I went back to my work. I finally finished and put it back in my folder, when I noticed the note they wrote me today. I pulled it out of my folder and read it over and over again.

"Whore."

"Nobody."

"Nothing."

"Waste of space."

"Go kill yourself."

"Stupid bitch."

I placed the note on the bed and looked at my nightstand. I lifted my lamp revealing the blade underneath. I picked it up and ran my thumb over the sharp edge. I then rolled my jacket sleeve up. I placed the blade to my wrist and sliced over and over. Drops of blood were running down my arm and dripping off the sides, forming a small puddle on the bed sheet. A warm tear rolled down my cheek.

"What are you doing?" That all too familiar voice asked me.

I looked up to see Matt standing in my doorway. I forgot he was coming over.

"Nothing..don't worry about it." I said.

He walked over to my bed, and sat down.

"Why do you hurt yourself?" He asked.

"Are you really asking me that question?" I asked him.

"Because of me?" He asked, looking hurt.

"You, Cam, Carter, Andrea...the list goes on and on." I said.

"Why do you care?" I asked him.

"I don't want to be the reason why you do this to yourself." He said.

"I deserve this pain." I said.

"Don't you care about what's happening to you?" He asked.

"I stopped caring about me a long time ago.." I said.

He took the blade from my hand and placed it on my nightstand. He looked me in the eyes.

"Please. Stop." He said.

"Don't tell me to just stop. I can't 'just stop'." I said.

"Why? What do you get from it?" He asked.

"I can't even explain it anymore. For one moment you don't feel all the pain and all the hurt. All you feel is that razor going into your skin. You don't think about how ugly and fat you are. You don't think about all the people that don't like you or how lonely you are. And in those few seconds, you feel at peace. Infinite. Until the scars start to fade and you have the urge to bring them back. That's the addicting part." I told him.

Matt looked down and started to roll up his hoodie sleeve, revealing a few healed scars on his arm. He looked back up at me, bringing his hand up to my face caressing my cheek.

"I know what its like to feel lonely. How it hurts to smile. How you try to fit in, but you can't. To let people down. To never feel good enough. How you don't know you're addicted until you try to stop. My scars, my battle wounds, remind me of what I've been through, and how I overcame it. Things will get better..maybe tomorrow, or the tomorrow after that, but know that it will happen. Your tomorrow will come eventually." He said.

And in that moment, I realized; this is the boy I loved. A little bit messy. A little bit ruined. A beautiful disaster, just like me...

"Pinky promise me you won't hurt yourself anymore today, tomorrow, or ever again. Do it." He said, holding his pinky out.

I don't know if I fully trusted him, after everything he put me through, but everyone deserves a chance, right?
I stuck my pinky out and wrapped it around his.

"I promise, I'll try." I said.

"Thats good enough." He said, smiling.

We then pulled out pur text books and started working on the project.

Just A Bet (Matthew Espinosa)Unde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum