No Love to Give

Memories

The first couple of days of being in the new house was pretty busy. A lot of unpacking was done in the kitchen and the bedrooms. The only thing that wasn't very finished was the living room. My mom was disgusted at the mustard yellow room and immediately bought some paint. She put off the project until today, making me help as well. She also put off another thing, that was pretty important, to tell me that tomorrow is my first day of school.

Great.

By the time we were finished, I regretted not changing into something more fitting for the activity. Blue paint was covering my shorts and T-shirt, another thing that upset me that day. I sighed and went upstairs to take a shower.

Although the house was big there were only one and a half bathrooms, which isn't too bad considering we're a family of four. The only bad thing, however, was my sister, who took her sweet ass time in the bathroom.

"Hurry the hell up I'm sweaty and a mess. I need a shower!" I yelled through the door while banging my fist.

She said in a low voice as if she was too preoccupied doing something better than getting out of the bathroom, "I'm almost done, just finishing up my makeup". I groaned and walked away.

Sliding out of my T-shirt and throwing it on my bed, I picked up my photo album my mom had given me when I was young. It was full of pictures of me laughing and hanging out with friends and family. There were baby pictures of me, a few when I was a newborn and some here and there for my first holidays. I cringed and the sight of me naked, in a tub with some toys. I'd burn this picture if I could.

Looking back at the pictures of when I was a bit older, just before my mom had given me this, I looked so happy. I must've been about thirteen or fourteen. The innocence showed on my gleaming face. I shut the book and tossed it back into the box. It was the old me. There was no going back.

I threw my towel over my shoulder and headed towards the bathroom. My sister had left but her makeup was littered all over the sink. I skimmed through all the makeup and couldn't tell what some of it was for. I left that thought and turned on the shower.

Many people enjoy taking a shower, getting clean and all that. But showers are a place for people to think. I mean that's what people usually do when they get into the shower. And because of that, it's why I hate them. It left me alone with my thoughts and I couldn't stand it. I'm usually pretty good with distracting myself but in the shower, it's quite hard. I pushed away most of my thoughts, cleaning myself up quickly until I saw one of my scars. That launched me into a whirlwind of thoughts.

"You're never gonna be able to leave me, you know that right?" He left me on the floor. Why had someone that I had come to love, and said they loved me back, treated me so wrong? I looked down and the bruises he gave me. The cut that ran down my arm.

I had tried to slit my wrists. Something I had been known to do. This time though, I wanted it to be the last.

Jamie saw just that and flipped out. He's been acting like this for a while. But he always gets better so I give in, hoping he'll be back the way he used to when we first met.

I miss him.

The memory disappeared, and I felt hot tears run down my face, only to be washed away with the water from the showerhead.

I couldn't deal with the stress. I couldn't deal with the pain. I couldn't deal with the memories and I wanted it all to stop. The best way I knew how was to sleep, and sleep is what I did.