Sweaters || Malum

Chapter 18

Song for the chapter: Welcome to my Life by Simple Plan

--

In English class, I had been too preoccupied with my own self-pity that I forgot to do my assignment. This is maybe the third I have missed as of late.

It was an advanced class, and so the assignments I have missed are seriously impacting my grade.

The bell rings and everybody gets their things as I begin to do the same. "Calum, can you stay back?" Mr. Folsom asks me and I sigh and put my things down. I watch as everybody leaves the room, taking a couple glances at me before doing so.

"What is it?" I ask him tiredly, wanting to go home. 

"I'll wait for you in the hallway, by the way." Luke smiles and leaves the classroom.

Mr. Folsom sits next to me, rubbing his temples. "Calum, you're falling behind." He states, as if I did not already know.

I nod and respond, "I know, Mr. Folsom."

He continues on with saying; "You never participate in class anymore. Even today we had a graded discussion and you didn't say anything. Did you even prepare notes?"

I shake my head no. 

"Calum if you're not going to put the effort into the class, you may need to switch out." He tells me with a frown on his face. I run my hands through my hair, tugging at it.

I sigh in frustration and avoid his gaze. "I need to get home." I tell him, grabbing my things and leaving the room. He doesn't call after me, and I felt so misunderstood. 

Why doesn't cutting actually solve any issues? It used to. When I was 14 and just beginning high school. Well, no directly it didn't. I felt like it did. When I would get stressed out or upset around them, they would stop talking about it and almost leave it alone. Sometimes they would make plans for me to make it up, and my grade would never falter. This would only be if I promised to make an effort to do better; and I did.

But my cutting is doing nothing for me anymore and I am tired of it.

--

I closed my bedroom door, locking it. I place my forehead gently against the wooden door. "I can't do this anymore." I whispered to myself. 

I can't take the bruises, the cuts, anything. Not anymore.

But I had a plan that I was hopefully going to go through with.

Has there ever been a part of you that wanted to so desperately be dead? Mine is a small voice in my head, telling me over and over how worthless I am. I go over to my dresser and grab my wallet from the top and stare at it for a moment. I take a deep breath and look at the calendar; just one month away.

I anxiously leave my room, the fabric of my sweatshirt rubbing up against the open wound was really beginning to both me. But instead of thinking about that I leave the house quickly. I put my earbuds in and blast music.

--

I go into the hardware store and look around, putting my hood up and looking down.

I go straight to the back of the store and look around at the multiple selections. I shakily grab it, hoping nobody would know what I was planning. I go up to the front and the cashier greets me with a smile. "Find everything okay?" She asks me.

"Yep." I responding, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. She scanned the item and bags it.

"That'll be five dollars and sixteen cents." She informs me and I had her six dollars.

She places it in her cash register and hands me my change. "And eighty four cents is your change." She tells me and I thank her, grabbing the plastic bag from the counter. A huge weight lifts from my shoulders and a lot of thoughts race through my mind. I have begun.

I pull my phone out and text Michael. 

Hey do you want to come over??? I really just want to have fun I promise :) :) Couple things? xx

He responds quickly.

Sure, see you soon? xox

I smile at his response and put my phone back in my pocket. I am journeying through the haze of darkness that is my life, and Michael is my light.