Bracelets // Mgc

Forty Five (tw)

Aleigha's point of view

"Mikey?" I asked as he raided his closet. "Mikey?" I tried again but he ignored me. "Michael-"

"What?" He asked, not even looking at me. I frowned and shook my head.

"Nevermind." I mumbled and took my boots off before laying down on his bed, throwing his blanket over me. I laid under all the blankets, completely hidden and he sighed.

"Aleigha, stop messing around. Here's some clothes to change into. Come on." He said as he took the blankets off of me.

"But I'm not tired."

"You said so in the car!"

"No I didn't." I said and sat up. "I'm tired, not sleepy." I told him and he gasped, seeming absolutely irritated.

"They're the same thing! Oh my god." He said and I flinched at his loud voice. "Aleigha, are you going to change or not?"

"O-Okay, I will, but I'm not going to sleep." I said and he crossed his arms. "I'm not!"

"Why not?"

"Cause sleep won't fix this kind of tired." I said and he just blinked at me. "You don't get it." I sighed and went up to him, grabbing the clothes he was holding out for me.

"What don't I get? You're being so stubborn right now." He told me and I went to the batheoom, shutting the door behind me.

I looked in the mirror, my fist tightening around the fabric of the sweats and t-shirt in anger. My makeup was smudged, my hair waa a mess, and I could barely stand straight.

I reminded myself of my mom, and I hated it. I hated her for this, for when she'd come home pissed drunk. It only resulted in an argument between my parents and some kind of joke to my brothers.

I took a rag and put warm water on it, scrubbing away all the make-up Arzaylea had forced on me. I took the fake eyelashes off and scrubbed off all of the foundation and eyeliner and lipstick. Everything came off, leaving my fave a pink color.

I sighed and began to actually changed, opting on not wearing a bra under Mchael's t-shirt. I switched my skinny jeans for his sweats and then opened the door.

"Leigha-"

He stopped talking as I tossed my clothes with his dirty ones and then laid on the bed. "You hurt yourself." He said as he saw my exposed wrists.

"I told you I was tired." I said and he walked towards me.

"When?"

"Doesn't matter-"

"Yes it does." He said and I gulped as I looked up at him. "When?" He asked me, looking at the fingernail shaped cuts and bruised line from where I'd snap rubber bands against my skin.

"During school." I said and leaned my head into his chest. "Are you mad at me?" I asked him and he was quiet.

"I'm disappointed." He told me and I tensed. "I'm disappointed in you, but I'm not mad."

"Like that's any better." I said and he tilted my chin up to look at him. "I'm sorry."

"Are you really?" He asked me and I shook my head, brutally honest with him. "Thought so." He said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"You promised you'd stop if I did."

"I break promises. I'm a shitty person." I said and he shook his head. "You can't promise what you don't know."

"Should've thought of that before." He said and looked down. "Why did you do it? You tell me you're fine but really, you're not." He told me.

"Because I felt like it-Why else Michael?" I asked. "Why do I do it? Because I'm fucked up like that. I'm an idiot, that's why. I'm a fucking psychopath who needs physical pain to take away the emotion pain."