My Injuries, Your Injuries (Completed)

Chapter 1

Gonna start this story like I did 'The Bully'... with a *drum roll* flash back! *fireworks* booom! Ohh ahh. *explosions*

Anyways, please read!

*~*~*~*~*

~*Four Years Ago*~

I wake up to an awful taste in my mouth, the taste of metal, blood. I lean over and click on the lamp sitting on my bedside table. As soon as the light comes on, I'm staring down at a horrific sight. My whole left arm is covered in slashes and blood, my sheets completely stained red.

I hold back a terrified scream, did I do this in my sleep? I jump out of bed and run to my connected bathroom, grabbing multiple wash cloths and soaking them with warm water.

I press the fabric to the cuts, making me hiss in pain and tears well up, some even spilling over.

The bleeding goes down after a few minutes of keeping the pressure. I grab some soap and wash the cuts, hoping to God I don't get an infection. I count the cuts over and over, seventeen. Seventeen slashes going up and down my forearm, but why? I didn't... I don't think... No, I didn't do this to myself. There's no reason to.

I search around the cabinets hurriedly, looking for gauze or just anything I can use to cover these up. I sigh in frustration when nothing comes into view.

"What do I do? Oh my Gosh, what do I do?" I whisper in a rush. I can't just leave these like this. Or can I? I study the lines on my arm and come to the decision that I can, they don't look too deep, hopefully they won't open up.

I sigh once more and walk into my bedroom, looking at my bed, it's stained. The blood is all over my sheets and pillow. "Dammit," I say and walk to my bed, pulling the sheets off at throwing in the hamper, I have to clean them before Mom or Dad sees them.

I search through my closet for another set of sheets. Wen I finally find the blue sheets, I hurriedly put them on my bed and grab the hamper containing my dirty ones and quietly, but quickly, go downstairs, then to the basement where the washer and dryer is. I spray all the blood stains with this... stuff... and rub it in, like Mom showed me. I put them in the washer and put the right amount of detergent in there and turn it on.

I walk back upstairs and look at the clock, 4:25.

It's too early to be awake right now, but with what just happened, I don't think I can go back to sleep.

I sit down at the kitchen table and study my left arm. Lines upon lines, they're going to be scars. Ugly ones, too.

For once in my life, I'm glad I have to wear a uniform at school.

~*Present Day*~

I wake up to the constant beeping of my alarm clock, 7 AM, time to get ready for school. When I sit up, out of habit, I look at my arms and legs and at my sheets. Clean, this is the first time in four months that I've woken up with clean sheets and just wounds from the previous night.

I sigh and get up, actually kind of happy. I don't have to rush today, I don't have to wash my sheets and arms, I just need to do my hair and get dressed, then drive to school.

I slap on a clean set of clothes, stupid khakis, a white button up shirt, blue jacket, and a tie. I put some gel in my hair and style it the way I want. After finally getting done, I go downstairs, itching at my arm a little.

"Good morning, Frankie," Mom greets me, a smile gracing her lips. "How did you sleep?" She always asks me this question, she's been noticing that I've had a lot of bags under my eyes lately. Since this has started, I usually get about four hours of sleep every night, but not tonight, I got a full night's sleep and I feel great.