(Cringy fic I wrote when I Was 11)

Chapter 11: My Blood.

Ellie:

After dinner, I raided the cupboards for biscuits.

What kind does he like? Digestives? What is that? Empire biscuits? I ended up grabbing a packet of 'Jammie dodgers' Or whatever strange name it was, I also grabbed a bottle of water and exited the kitchen.

"Baby, you just ate, why are you going to your room with that?" My mother asked, picking up the plates from the table, I tensed up.
"I'm gonna be in m-my room for a while, homework, and I won't be leaving for the rest of the day" she nodded and continued cleaning.

I quickly ran up the stairs, back in my room.
I set the packet of biscuits and the water at the closet door.

"You, take these, I'll be back in a minute" I whispered, I heard a tap in response.

I walked out the room, and into the bathroom.
I looked in the mirror.

I have a good amount of scars on my face, mostly burn scars, my mother left the oven on one night, with food in it.
me, being an adventurous four year old, follows the smoke, has one of my episodes due to the smoke, and half of my right side is engulfed in flames.

I have a large burn mark, going from my right hip, to my neck, covering the collarbone.
I also have some scars around my eyes, I don't know where I got them though.

I just stared at my reflection in the mirror, I wasn't ashamed at The scars, I felt proud, I survived that, I was in the flames for 5 minutes, my mother said she cried when she first saw the scar.
She stopped being concerned about it when I kept saying how cool the scar was.

-

I went back into my room, the biscuits and water were gone, a note in its place.

Thank you! I haven't had anything sweet in so long! It's just scraps and stuff. Thank you for not telling anyone about me.

"No problem, BH" I locked my door, I sat on my bed, and put my headphones on.

I pressed shuffle, My Blood by twenty one pilots, came on.

I laid down, and turned the music louder, I bopped my head up and down, like some weird slow motion head banging.

I began silently singing to it, I couldn't hear myself, that's how loud it was.

--

I don't know why I remember weird things, I remember hair colours, eye colours, not just weird hair colours, or eye colours, if I meet a person, I remember everything about them, but I don't even remember what I had for lunch.

My music shuffled through genres, mostly landing on stupid love songs, and depressing songs.

Sunflower began playing, I don't remember even liking this song, let alone having it.

I just let the music play as I wondered around my room, it was now Nine pm, my parents were already in bed, and then there's me.

Looking at random things, cobwebs, flies, cracks in the wall.

"BH, what's your real name?" I asked, as I traced some faded outlines on the wall, I felt, strange, like I had butterflies in my stomach.

A note flew up, and landed at my feet.

I can't tell you.

The writing had gone from Childish to adult again.

-

I had finished my conversation, I covered myself, put on the pair of shorts, and the T-shirt from the night before.

"Goodnight, BH" I yawned, I put on an hour long version of a lullaby, the only thing that helps me get to sleep.

I had closed my eyes for about 5 minutes, my closet door (-easy to tell it was the closet door, that one doesn't squeak when you first open it, but when it's opened slowly it creaks like hell) opened, my light had turned off, and the door closed again.

"Goodnight".