The Bad Boy Tutors The Suicidal Girl | ✓ Rewriting

Chapter 49

★
if you want to | beabadoobee
-----------------
"if you wanna love me,
try to get inside my brain."
-----------------
★

Erik left and I just sat on the bed. I really just realized don't do much but sit, eat and sleep since that's all I can for now. I have no idea why I am feeling this way. I just want to grab something and myself with it. I stare at the clock knowing Mathew has gone outside with Tyler to grab some groceries.

I turn to notice my school bag and went to it. I usually had my stuff in his home since my home didn't have anything to keep a hold of. My home, it wasn't even my home. I sighed and banged my head into my hands. I shiver and gulped as my hands slowly grab the bag. I picked it up and opened the zipper. I took a deep breath and took out the red pouch to see a bloodstain. I went onto the bed and sat.

I stare at it for a moment and heard a knock. I put it under the blanket and turned to look at the door.

"It's open,"I said and the door opened to see Mr.Creed.

"I was just checking up on you. Are you doing alright?"He asked me and I nodded quickly with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah I am,"I said quickly and he smiled at me.

"Alright, if you need anything. Just ask me."I bit my tongue and nodded with a fake smile.

"Sure,"I said and he gave a small wave then closed my door which made me sigh.

"He's really joking."

I turned and frowned seeing no one around me. Is that my head? Who said that?

"You really aren't worth it."

"They pity you."

I blink and went to look at the pouch. What if they really do? What if they actually don't care about me but just pity me? I made a mistake coming here, I should've stayed there and ignored everything. Maybe my thoughts are right.

"Everyone hates you. Look at how your father treated you. Later on, he will too."

What if it's true, what if that happens? Is that why he came here to ask if I was okay, not because of how I felt? Just so that he is happy to know I'm not okay.

"Your dumb."

That's right, I am dumb. I am stupid, I am crazy. You know what I'll just kill myself for it. Yeah, and maybe people won't care as much.

Mathew, Mathew won't even care right. He might've asked me out because he felt bad I was alone. He must've just talked to people who knew I was a useless prick sitting alone all the time. He might even think I'm a whore.

I turned to the pouch and grabbed it. I quickly ran to the other side of the bed. I opened it and looked to see my blades. I picked one and stare at it glow. I gulped with my breath cracking. I pulled my right long sleeve up softly and saw my old scars. I bit my lip and used my left hand on the blade to mark my skin. I hissed from the touch since it's been a while.

"They won't care, if they did, why didn't they save you? Why did you run away for your safety."

I continued to cut myself as if it was starting to feel like nothing and the blood was dripping less than I expected. I couldn't find any more room with the blood on my arm so I moved my left sleeve up and started to do the same thing.

One by one, all the marks were showing, first red as it was a scratch, white as I left a mark and red as the skin opened. My skin was craving for pain and I wanted more.