Life of Ives ✔️

Twenty-six

IVES

I run across campus as fast as I can, without any of my stuff. I don't even have my phone with me, it's in my bag in the backroom. The only thing I have is the tiny knife from the counter, that we use to cut open vanilla- and cinnamon-sticks.

It was a bad judgment call to take it with me, but it was almost compulsive. I couldn't even try to not take it. I had to!

The tears are streaming down my face as I run towards the small opening between the buildings on campus, and I climb up the huge rocks. My vision is so blurry I can't see a thing as I walk through the light woods, until I completely fall apart on the ground by the stream. I feel the hard gravel underneath me as my knees hit the ground, and I cry.

I hug myself tightly as I close my eyes and listen to my own sobs and the running water close to me. The sound  of the water is so soothing, and it helps me calm down, until I can control my own breath again.

I don't know how long it's been, but it's definitely been a long time. The sky is a lot darker now, and as I sit up on the ground, I stare up at the clouds between all the red and orange leaves above me. I absolutely love all the colors around me, and I sigh a little as I bite my bit and try to force the unwanted thoughts away.

The tears are still running down my cheeks as I shift in my position, and I pick up the small knife I brought with me.

I deserve that kind of behavior towards me. I had my mom killed, and I could have helped her but I didn't. I deserve everything bad that's happened to me since then, and more.

My eyes close for a second, before I pull off my apron, and I run my hand across my stomach over my shirt. This is so stupid, and I know it, but I have to take control over my pain.

I pull my shirt up a little and trace my fingers across the scars I have. I have so many of them, but none of those I made myself are as big as the first one I got. The one that is located just between two of my ribs, right below my left boob. That one is huge and thick, and it makes me nauseous to just touch it.

The others I made myself, to take control of everything that had happened to me, to make me realize I deserve the pain I'm experiencing.

I haven't done this in a while, but I feel like I need to now. I have to.

My fingers are slightly shaking, as I lift my hand up to the bottom of my ribs, and I close my eyes. The cold blade touches my skin, and I bite my lip hard as I feel the blood start to run down my stomach.

It stings. My whole body stings, but mostly the small area where the knife just was. I swallow a huge lump in my throat as I move my hand slightly, to create a new cut, just above the first one. The pain from this feels so much better than whatever Alex did to me earlier. The feeling of the knife breaking my skin once again makes me almost sigh in relief as I feel the control slowly coming back to me.

I'm in control of my own pain. I'm in control of my feelings.

I repeat the two sentences in my head for a few minutes, while I feel the warm blood flow down my otherwise cold stomach, until I let myself fall down on my back. I let the knife go, and I hear the slight clinging sound as the blade hits the gravel.

My hand feels sticky and warm, and I lift it up to see. It's red from all the blood that has been dripping down from my new wounds, and I close my eyes,

Silent tears are streaming down the sides of my face, until I feel the cold liquid enter my ears. It's so surreal. How can everything feel so fucked up so suddenly, when I've been completely fine for so long? I haven't even thought about doing this since I moved away to start college.