Wires

Chapter 3

I arrived home and looked at the digital clock in my car. It read 11:30. Shit.

I got out of the car, took a deep breath, and braced myself for what I knew was coming. I was toast. An hour past curfew? Mom would kill me.

I walked in the front door and there she was, sitting in one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, waiting for me.

"Mom, I know I'm late coming home but-" I began to say, but then was cut off.

"But what Quentin? You expect me to just be okay with you galavanting all over town with this girl you just picked up?" she yelled.

"Mom, that's not at all what happened. You don't understand, she was trying to kill herself. She ran in front of my car and her arm was covered in blood I had to do something." I muttered back.

"Quentin you've got to stop trying to be the hero! That's not what you are! This is exactly why you have the problems you do! Because you're too busy worrying about everyone else but yourself!"

I couldn't believe she said that. My own mother. I didn't even know what to say because it hurt so bad. I just stared at her.

"Goodnight, Mom." I said, and then I walked to my room and shut the door.

"Quentin Alexander!" she yelled.

I didn't answer. I had no reason to. What she said to me was totally uncalled for. I changed out of my clothes into a pair of boxer shorts and sat on my bed. I couldn't stop thinking about what she said. Maybe she was right. Maybe that's why I hate myself. I turned my head towards my closet door. I got up and slowly opened the door. On my shelf was a small box. I reached up and grabbed it, then sat back on my bed. I opened up the box and inside were folded up blood-stained notebook pages and razor blades. I picked one blade up and ran my fingers over it. I pulled up one of the legs of my shorts and ran that small silver piece of metal across my leg, which left a thin trail of red. I grabbed a tissue off of my nightstand and tried to stop my thigh from bleeding but that didn't work very well. I frantically rushed to the bathroom, trying to avoid my mother. I didn't know if she was asleep or not but I couldn't take chances. Once I was in the bathroom, I locked the door and sat on the floor. After a few minutes the bleeding stopped and I was able to process what had happened.

Did I really just do that? It's been 2 months since the last time. I stood up and just stared at myself in the mirror.

Why did I do it? Mom has yelled at me plenty of times for stuff like that. Never once has it gotten to me like that. But maybe it was the fact that she was right this time. Or maybe it was because of Emily. Or because I would rather feel pain than just feel numb.