Isaac's Sister

Chapter 6

TRIGGER WARNING

Alexis's POV

     I stared out the window as Stiles, the guy that I literally met not even an hour ago, drove me to his house. Honestly, I didn't fucking care where he was talking me. Anywhere would be better than my house. I didn't care if he just took me to some alley and killed me. I would rather die than face the wrath of my father when he finds out I snuck out again.
     I memorized each street name, stop sign, and turn that he made and where he made it so I could get away if I had to. That was pretty much the only thing I was kind of good at: memorizing things. I glanced at Stiles through the mirror. His friend wasn't coming with us because he had to get home. His mom was worried about him. Stiles looked like a normal teenage boy. He was mainly focused on the road, but every few seconds, I saw his eyes twitch over to me, checking to see if I was okay.
     Any sane person would be freaking out right now, which was probably why Stiles kept glancing over at me. I should've be panicked and nervous, but I wasn't. I mean, sure, I felt safe with him, but I also felt safe with my dad until my mom died. It all went downhill from there. I snuck a look at the time. It was almost midnight. Stiles looked over at me and saw that I was looking at the clock.
     "We still have fifteen minutes until we get there, so you can go to sleep for a little while if you want to," he told me. I nodded and continued to stare out the window. The one thing I wanted right now was to sleep, but I couldn't. I knew that I desperately needed the sleep. The only problem was that I was too exhausted to even try, if that makes any sense.
     I didn't know how far away I was from my house, but there seemed to be more stars out here than from where I lived. My head lulled back against the seat and turned towards Stiles. His jaw was tight and clenched as if he was on some mission. I wondered if he always looked that way. One of his hands was on the steering wheel, and the other was resting against the window holding his head up. He seemed almost as tired as I was. Maybe that was why he told me to sleep.
     "Hey, are you awake?" He whispered to me. It was only in that moment that I realized that my eyes were closed. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at him. I nodded. He gave me a small smile. "We're here," he whispered again. He got out of the car and closed his door. I just leaned my head back against the seat and unbuckled my seatbelt. Before I could grab the door handle, the door swung open. Stiles was there, and he offered me his hand. I examined his face for a second before talking his hand and sliding out of the car. I winced as my foot hit the ground. For some reason, my ankle was sore. Stiles let go of my hand and closed my door without noticing me wince in pain. If he did notice, he wasn't showing it. He led me to his front door. He had a decent house in a pretty good neighborhood, which hopefully meant that I could get some help from his neighbors if absolutely necessary.
     The door swung open and I followed Stiles inside. The door led to his living room, and in his living room was a man sitting on the couch. My breath caught in my throat. The man stood up and walked over to us. I took a step back.
     "Stiles, you're half an hour late! I was two minutes away from going and finding you myself! Go to your room," the man yelled. I started to shake involuntarily.
     "But Dad, just listen to me for two seconds-" Stiles pleaded.
     "Stiles, I do not want to argue with you. Go to your room right now!" He commanded. A sound that closely resembled a squeak erupted from my lips before I could stop it. I covered my mouth, but it was too late. I stared up at the man. His eyes softened when he saw me. "So this is the girl?" He asked Stiles.
     "Yeah. I'm going to have her sleep in the spare room. As you can probably tell, she's tired, so we'll see you in the morning," Stiles told his father. My hand fell from my face as Stiles took me by  my shoulder and led me away from the man.
     We walked into a room that was empty except for a small dresser, a desk, and a bed. I stared up at Stiles.
     "Hey, are you okay?" Stiles asked me. I nodded even though my heart was still beating so hard that it could burst out of my chest at any second. "I know my dad can be intimidating sometimes, but he means well. Wait here. I'll grab some more comfortable clothes for you." Stiles exited the room but returned only seconds later with a long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants. "Here. It can get pretty cold here in the night," Stiles told me as he handed me the clothes. "The bathroom is down the hall and my room is the one right across the hall. If you need anything, come and get me, okay?" He asked me. I nodded.
     "Thank you," I croaked. He gave me a pity smile before exiting the room, closing the door behind himself. I took in a shaky breath and mentally scolded myself for being so jittery around Stiles's dad. I quickly changed from my dirty, uncomfortable clothes into Stiles's big, comfortable ones. His clothes were huge on me, and by "huge" I mean that the pants will literally fall off of me unless I tie about half of it off with a hair tie from around my wrist. The shirt almost goes down to my knees, and the sleeves completely cover my hands and go way beyond my fingertips. I noticed that there was a full length mirror attached to the back of the door, so I stared at myself in in. I was practically swimming in his clothes. They were actually pretty comfortable. I just had to roll up the pant legs and the sleeves a little. I lifted the shirt to look at my stomach. For some reason, the bite was completely healed, but the bruises from my father were still there. I shook the thought from my head. I was too tired to deal with theories and questions.
     As I continued to stare into the mirror, my eyes filled with tears and my wrists started to itch. I mean, just look at me! All I saw was an ugly, worthless, fat nobody who deserved to die I felt the need to cut flood through my head. I had to find something sharp as fast as I could. I opened the door and tiptoed past Stiles's closed door all the way to the bathroom. I closed and locked the door and immediately started sifting through the drawers trying to find anything sharp.
     I sighed in relief as I saw an opened package of razor blades. There were three left, so I decided to try out all of them to find the sharpest. I closed the drawers and set the blades on the ledge of the sink. I rolled up my sleeves and made the first cut. I made a cut with each of the blades until I found the sharpest. I used the sharpest one for the rest of my cuts. I traced the cold metal against my wrists. Each cut I made was deeper than the last. I didn't care that I had just broke my no-cutting streak of almost two weeks. I didn't care that I would have these ugly scars for the rest of my life. Honestly, the thought didn't even cross my mind. The only thing that snapped me back to reality was Stiles's voice.
     "Who's in there?" Stiles asked. His voice sounded thick with sleep. My heart sped up. I looked down at the blood-filled sink.
     "Alex," I told him. "I'll be out in a minute." I frantically searched for something, anything, that would stop the bleeding. I finally found some gauze in the drawer along with dull medical scissors. I flushed the toilet to make it seem like I was just peeing and turned on the sink. I took a deep breath, bit down on a towel, and shoved my wrists under the cold stream of water. I bit down on the towel so I wouldn't scream in pain, and it worked. My wrists were still bleeding, but I had about thirty seconds before Stiles got really suspicious, so I wrapped the bandages around my arms anyways. I layered the bandages thickly so no blood would get through. I had cut pretty deep this time. After I stopped seeing the red leak through, I cut the bandages with the medical scissors and used two bandage clips that I also found in the drawer. I also rinsed off the blades and threw them back in the drawer after packaging them up again. I did a quick sweep around the bathroom to make sure that there was no more blood or anything else that would give me away. I tugged down the sleeves over the bandages,  took a deep breath, and opened the bathroom door. I tried to look as normal as I could, and it worked. I exited the bathroom, and Stiles walked in and closed the door.
     I eventually got back to my room, but it was hard. Stars dotted my vision and I kept stumbling. I cut too deep. Not deep enough to die of course, but deeper than I intended. I practically collapsed back into bed and almost immediately passed out.