High School Affairs (MB Story)

Pain and Pleasure

(Jacob POV)

I walked into the house, the smell of mom's cooking didn't hit my nose. The warm glow of her lavender candle didn't light the spot over the fire place.

The cold, dark, quiet house made me feel even more depressed than I already was. I felt the piece of me missing. My mom, her love, everything. I went to go visit her today, right when school let out for the weekend.

The doctors said that her temperature continues to rise and fall so she must be monitored closely. She was hooked up to all the machines with clear liquid in them, I could barely look at her that way. When she spoke her voice was hoarse and so low that I had to strain to hear. She didn't look like mom, she looked like the living dead.

I look down at the note she gave me. "No matter what happens, I will always be here for you. I love you, Prince." She always called me that when I was a baby and she uses it mostly for special occasions. The fact that she's using it now scares me. Would this be the last time she calls me that? Images begin flashing in my mind. Me at my moms funeral. Me struggling to gather my college tuition. Me homeless with no family. Me completely alone.

Slowly, I head to the kitchen. I dig through every drawer until I find the lighter mom keeps around for her candles. I grab a fork and the lighter and sit down at the table.

Cautiously I flick the lighter on and hold the fork over the flame. I run it back and forth over the fork a couple times, getting it extremely hot.

I turn the flame off and then, without hesitating, I press the fork onto my forearm. The pain kills me, the hot metal searing against my skin. I could smell my skin burning as the hot metal eats away at it.

"Fuck," I say dropping the fork. I feel my eyes watering and I blink quickly.

My new scars are now turning a blueish purple, they're swelling into four fat lumps. I touch one lightly and cringe, they hurt like hell but it's not the worst pain I could do.

It isn't enough, I need more to numb my sorrows. I stomp upstairs to the bathroom and grab one of my moms spare razors. I break the blade off the razor and go into my room, shutting the door behind me.

Im shaking viciously, my whole body trembling as I try to keep the blade straight. If im not careful I might split one of my veins and make it spurt blood all over the rug. But who cares? It will feel so good to have my warm blood exposed to the cool air.

I lower the blade and take a deep breath before drawing a quick line straight across my arm. No blood is produced. I haven't cut in so long, Im beginning to fear the pain.

I wipe my clammy hands on my pants and grip the blade again before lowering it to my skin. A quick flick of the wrist and blood begins pooling on my wrist and dripping down my arm. God it hurts, but it feels so good too.

Suddenly my door burst open and I jump, dropping the bloody blade to the floor. "Hey, are we still going to the movies with---" Jaida stands in my door way with a look of pure horror on her face.

"Oh my God," she whispers. "What the hell are you doing?" I stare at her in a daze with one thought going through my head. I didn't lock the front door?

I forgot she was coming over so we could go to the movies with Ray and Alicia later. "It's ok Jaida, I'm ok. Just relieving some stress." I say.

"Your delirious," Jaida says to me sitting across from me. "What have you been smoking? You're scaring me." She looks from the blood stained carpet, then at my wrist. She looks scared and I squeeze my eyes shut so I don't have to see her like that. My laughing suddenly stops and I feel like crying. My emotions are officially bipolar.