Saviour

Saviour- Chapter Two: Blood & Music

  I guess I'll start my story a few days before I met him. Hahah, yes. There is a guy but honestly, isn't there always one? Anyways, this should be a good place to start.

  Closing my eyes I set the blade down on the counter and felt the blood trickle down my skin. Seconds later, all of the new cuts had joined in until one big, bloody rush was left leaving me breathless. But lately that's all I have been feeling. No pain, no release. No matter how many times I cut, however deep or how many times I go over it, the pain never comes. Frustrated, I've been cutting kinda crazy, making my pale skin look like an extreme Tic-Tac-Toe board. Although come to think of it, why is it called Tic-Tac-Toe? Sure, "Tic-Tac-Toe 3 in a row..", as the rhyme goes but there isn't even an X in the name!

  Sorry, ranting.

  Coming back to reality I yanked my shirt back up, not realizing I had let it fall back down and the one side was now covered in blood. "Fuck." I cursed under my breath. I took off my shirt and balled it up, since it was already covered in blood I decided a little more wouldn't kill it, and put it on my cuts to cease the flow. With my hand on the shirt I walked into my black and red bedroom and grabbed my oversized Pikachu shirt and walked back into the bathroom. Throwing the bloody shirt down I grabbed a couple of band-aids from under the sink and a wet washcloth.

  Now don't say I'm not dedicated, no. I'm just not stupid..well, that stupid. I cleaned up all the blood and threw the band-aids on across my hip, lightly, I ran my fingers over them to make sure they stayed on. Once I was sure they were on good, I put on my shirt, picked up the bloody one and ran the faucet.

  I closed the lid of the washer and it started with a hum that quickly faded into the background. Leaning against the white machine I probed my right hip and felt some soreness. I sighed. I needed to feel something, anything. Just..something that triggers a release. With another sigh I pushed myself away from the washer and went upstairs to my room, pulling out my phone on the way. When no songs jumped out at me I just hit "Shuffle" and turned it up as loud as it would let me. I was grateful that the man I had to honor of calling my "father" wasn't here or else I wouldn't be able to do this. I threw my cell down on my black and grey bed and sung along to the music, a smile dancing upon my lips.

  This one one of those few moments I had where I felt content. Happy almost, but it's been awhile since I felt that and I had a feeling it would knock me over if I ever did feel it. I bobbed my head along while I sang and plopped back on my bed, my arms behind my head. This is what keeps me going, I thought. Not people, no. Definitely not and not anything else. Music, meaningful music that has saved thousands of lives. It was true, without them I wouldn't be alive right now.

  Oh, the irony. How foolish I was, enjoying my story so far? Hey, I warned you.