drowning

xvii

" waking up from a nightmare isn't possible if you're still awake "

-

JUNE

*trigger warning*

Wake up. Shower. Bleed. Avoid the bathroom mirror. Do self damage control. Go to school. Go to the Gardens. See Sam. Ignore him. Go home. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

I'd become so overcome with the vicious cycle of my self harm that I had begun to crave it at all hours of the day, waiting for the moment I could feel the specific kind of release it gave me. I'd thought I'd started to maybe fall out of my habit, save for a few times here and there, but this kind of addiction is one that doesn't give up a fight so easily, but  I also wan't trying too hard to beat it.

Waking up everyday was a painful reminder that I lived in his world, and escaping it wasn't an option. I lived in fear that he would show up at every corner I turned- no where felt safe. I was nearly counting down the days until he got his hands on me again.

Not even the embarrassment of being shoved into a pool full of half-naked people could distract me from the fact that he could've been there- at the party. I wasn't sure what I was thinking answering Brian's text to come over, knowing there'd be another party. Nonetheless, here I am, now in Brian's room, wet, shivering, and in desperate need of a razor at my thigh.

"What just happened?" Brian asked as he shut his bedroom door behind us, closing us off from the small crowd that had followed the scene inside.

I wasn't exactly sure why I felt comfortable in his helping me, but seemed like the only option in that moment. I wanted to get away from all the people, cameras, and stares immediately, for fear of him seeing me.

"I got pushed," I answered, bluntly. I had assumed he watched it go down along with everyone else.

I dropped the towel on the ground, knowing Brian's seen my naked body enough that seeing my attempt at a wet t-shirt contest wouldn't phase him by much. I ripped off my shoes and socks, giving my feet a chance to breathe, and sat down on the bed. Brian watched me from his position near the closet door, and tossed me a shirt of his to change into.

"By who?"

"I think her name is Destiny," I explained, as I ripped my sticky, wet shirt over my head, and threw on the one he gave me. "She's a senior, and I'm pretty sure one of Sam's puppies."

"Ah, that explains it," Brian responded, and sat next to me.

Admittedly, this was my fifth time at Brian's house in two weeks. Running customers wasn't something I usually dealt with, but his persistence always seemed to win me over. Over the encounters, he'd put the puzzle pieces together that Sam was the one who'd been indirectly tormenting me at school ever since... that day.

It made sense, in a way, why Sam was acting the way he was. I knew he was never capable of leaving that part of himself behind, and my rejecting our friendship brought it back out tenfold. What I did to him wasn't the plan of things. After he came by the Gardens, Sam was the first thing I found myself thinking of. Not even hurting myself, or purposely crashing my car on the highway. It was Sam- I needed him. However, that realization was what made me decide I couldn't be around him anymore. I had started to actually enjoy our friendship, enjoy him, enjoy us. I knew that if I continued on with Sam they way we were, then the truth would eventually come out, and I'm more afraid of him, than I am of Sam.

"I'm going to kill the party," Brian said, pulling me out of the daze I'd dropped into. "I'll be right back."

Once he left, I decided wearing wet shorts wasn't anymore comfortable than the socks and shoes, so I went ahead and found some sweatpants of Brian's to throw on while he was gone. In the process, I took it upon myself to look at the trophies and pictures he had scattered around his bedroom. It was no secret Brian was top of the school's soccer team, and he clearly had no problem showing it around his room either. Nearly every picture up was him with his friends playing, scoring, winning.