Marc On Your Wrists

Chapter 2:

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Author's Note:

Another update for my new book! The amazing cover is made by my friend, @DumoSunshine <3 Check out her stories "Always" and "Sex" here on wattpad. They aren’t too far into the story yet, so you still can catch up. As well as, this is my last update before my finals, I might update once during my finals, if not I will be updating after. I’m sorry if this chapter sucked, it was just a filler chapter but I’m going to let a little bit of action and excitement begins in the next chapter. As well as, if you didn’t see my message on my profile I will try to complete all one shot requests before Friday, if I don’t get your request done I will be updating those after my finals are done for sure. Good luck to everybody that are doing their finals, tests, midterms, unit tests I don’t know what else to add to the list lol. But good luck, and aim high for the moon, if you don’t land on the moon at least you’ll land on the stars. With that being said, thank you guys for understanding and enjoy the new chapter. Vote and comment below any thoughts or suggestions. Thank you everybody!

Stay Strong <3
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Recap:

I climb into my sexy red Dodge Ram and backed out of the driveway. I blast my hockey pump up playlist on Spotify through the speakers, as I drive through beautiful Pittsburgh. You probably noticed I didn't check my phone like any other human on this planet does. Well, that's because there's no point. I have no friends, no boyfriend, and no nothing. So, here begins the journey and boring life of a nobody.  

I begin my walk into the campus; the way this place is set up is very complex and hard to get around with a car since it’s very busy and has limited parking spots. I lugged around my striped backpack from Spring and walked to my next class. This was a daily routine for me to hear whispers wherever I walked by. It was just like high school all over again, except this time I was forced being here. My parents had forced me to stay IN Pittsburgh and attend one of the best universities in Pittsburgh, Duquesne University. I didn’t mind going here, I love the scenery and the architecture, but I was being judged here everywhere I went. I walked by a large group of people walking on the Skylar Skywalk to the Duquesne Square.

“Shhh, shut up she’s here,”

“What a bitch, look at how she dresses,”

“OMG, she’s so ugly! Who’s going to marry her?”

“What a whore, look at how she dresses. At least, dress decent so she doesn’t shame all of us with her ugliness.”

“What an anorexic bitch, like we understand you want to be an attention seeker.”

I felt my insides churn. I turned up my music loud. “Make This Stop” by Rise Against is blaring through my headphones. I hated all of them. I felt tears threatening to come up, as I picked up my pace and walked to Duquesne Square and walked into the closest bathroom I could find. I threw my stuff on the bathroom floor and slumped against the wall. I let the tears all fall out and opened up my pencil case. I unzip my pencil case and grab a silver blade that was part of a pencil sharpener before. I roll up my sleeves and press the blade against my skin and swipe away at it until I felt the numbness in my arm and dripped in blood. This had been going on for years, and I always kept a small box of Team Canada bandages in your backpack for these “Just In Case” times. I  feel dizzy but I got up, slung my backpack over my shoulders and head out the door.

I walk as fast as I can so I can make it just in time for class. I sat in the back, since that was the only spot left. Nobody sat beside me, throughout all of my classes, so I had adjusted to being given the isolated treatment, and I didn’t mind.

The stupid day was finally over, and I made my way to the car. I unlocked my jeep wrangler and jumped into the seat. I punch the steering wheel for quite a while. My arms started becoming sore from all the punching. I pick up a Kleenex and wipe away my tears and begin my drive to hell. I have never been allowed to go out, I had to be straight home if I was late 5 minutes from when I was supposed to get home I would have to take a beating from my drunk dad. Thus, the reason why I always dressed in hoodies and sweats or always wore long sleeve shirts because it just covered all the marks, burns and scars. I finally made it into the large garage and parked my car along with all the Lamborghini’s, Audi’s and Escalades. Being from a rich household, was a different story because you could have whatever you wanted and everything is big.

Big rooms, big cars and just everything must be expensive and large. All the small things here carry no value and just make you an thankful bastard. I’m not saying that I don’t like being from a rich household, I just hate how my parents think there better then everybody. I walk into the house, grab some food and walk into my bedroom to see my bed made from the maid. I throw my books and backpack in my room and watch my favorite show “Marvel’s Agents of Shield,” on Netflix as I ate a bowl of Tuna Salad. Hours had passed by and all my homework and assignments were done for tomorrow.

At the darkest hour, I got worse, since everybody’s going to sleep and I’m starting to let the crazy monster out, which no one ever sees. I grab the knife and slice my wrists like the sliced potatoes we had for dinner, and letting the crimson red blood tear out from my crying skin. I put the knife in deeper and let my skin cry since I had no tears left to cry anymore. I suddenly felt tired and energy drained from all the blood I was losing. I took the knife, the bandages and locked them up in a safe in my closet along with other valuables. I know that may seem odd to you because locking up knives and things that can kill a person along with my valuables. I walked into the bathroom that connected to my bedroom and rinsed my arm letting the crimson red droplets become a red pool of water. My arm felt numb but a peaceful numbness as I wrapped myself in warm sheets and let slumber take over me and escaping me to a world called dreams.

Normally people dream of riding unicorns that poop rainbows or fruits falling from the sky, but I’ve always dreamed of being happy and having friends, having Marc Andre Fluery as your boyfriend or even just attending Penguins games at the Consol Energy Center. Surprisingly I had never been at the Consol, considering the fact I’ve lived in Pittsburgh for quite a while now. Dreams are imaginable things that just let go of all the pain like cutting or drinking, and just replace it with peace and happiness like Curtis Lazar’s smile. When you cut, drink or dream It doesn’t last as long as we would love to and then reality comes back and slaps you back in the face. Little did I realize that life was going to slap me and reward me with something I had dreamed of for a while now.