The Lost Ones

Alisha knows her way around without being seen, it's been that way since she was 12. And she likes it that way.
She's not one to get attached to people, she doesn't have friends unless she needs connections and she definitely does not talk to anyone at the hell hole she must call school.
She may be unseen but she knows how to get the things she needs and wants, all without anyone noticing her much. But that all changes when things get a little weird around.
Blake or 'Blade' is the new guy in town, and when there's new people they normally tend talk. He stumbles upon Alisha and for some reason is interested in her. She can't see why, but he does. And when she gets closer everything hits the fan.
~~Some explicit things in here WARNING~~

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1. Voices and Flashbacks

Chapter 1 

 

'You're thoughts are eating you alive. You'll never survive them.' 

The little voice in the back of my head speaks to me as I sit at the back of the room filled with the faces I hate to see each day. I stare down at my desk and the blank sheet of paper sitting in front of me. I want to unfold myself onto it, but the little thought in the back of my head won't let me. It drowns out everything else. 

'You aren't worth it. You know that. So why are you sitting here when you could be giving up in the bathroom? You know you want to. You haven't since this morning, come on. Just one little cut. That's all you need.' 

I push the thoughts to the back of my mind the best I could. 'Try to hold it in for the last few minutes you're trapped in this hell hole, then you can go smoke a cigarette'. I remind myself. I look up at the clock 1:54, 10 minutes before 6th period is over. My leg pounds harder under me, shaking my desk and the one in front of me slightly. Mr. Miller's voice cracks through my thoughts. "Alisha, would you like to answer my question since you seem so interested in what we are talking about?" 

My face got hot and a cold chill erupted through me. My leg began to shake even more, only irritating the guy that sat in front of me. I stare at the blank expression on Mr. Miller's face for a few seconds, I could feel everyone staring at me, waiting for me to speak but I couldn't. My voice is caught in the back of my throat, not letting anything out beside a hush exhale. Mr. Miller just gives me a fake smile "Make sure to pay attention next time, okay." And his attention goes from me to the board with notes on it in seconds, but everyone's eyes are still on me. I push all of their stares to the back of my mind and fidget with my finger nails. The guy that sits in front of me looks back and stares at me for a few seconds, leaving a lingering feeling of annoyance. I roll my eyes, keeping my thoughts on getting out of here and smoking rather than focusing on all of them. They will only make everything worse. 

'They're right you know, all you are is a failure. Not good enough. They stare at you and see right through you, you think you can hide? They all see it. You little-' 

I push the thought out, or at least until I get home. In the comfort of my room. Then I can drown out the world with my own self destruction. 

The bell pierces through my head like a bullet and I jump from my seat, with my books and my bag in hand. I'm a few steps from the door when Mr. Miller's voice stops me. 

"Alisha, may I have a word with you?" The questioning voice behind his words was really pointless because I didn't have a choice. I stop and turn to look at him, standing in the middle of the people rushing out the door to their next class. I don't say anything, just stare at him and wait for him to speak. He steps away from the podium he was standing behind and gets a few steps closer to me so his voice isn't so loud. "Are you okay? You seem to be somewhere else, the times I see you." His voice is hushed, like it's something he has to hide. 

I nodded. I didn't have the time nor the interest to sit here and tell this man the things that bother me. It's almost sad how much you can hide with a fake smile and the simple words I've come to know. My lips stretch into a smile, it almost hurts to put the effort into even that but I manage it. "I'm fine. Thank you for your concern though. I just have a lot going on." My voice is plain and stern. You could even say normal. 

He nodded and with that, he let me leave. On my way out of his door I let out a little relieved sigh. Finally. I'm done. I make my way down the halls and to my locker. I switch out my backpack full of textbooks for my bag that has the things I actually need. I escape through the side doors to the side driveway that is dead, beyond the driveway with a parking lot next to it is the woods I walk through each day to get to my house. 
I pass the parking lot and all the shit cars that are parked and get out my pack of cigarettes and my lighter. 

Cigarette in between my fingers, and some how it feels like all my worries drown out of me. It's quenched between my lips and I light it, inhale; exhale; one closer to death, I think. The electricity stings my body and the smoke burns my lungs, leaving a pleasant pain behind and a slight head rush. I walk through the little path, covered in dead leaves and sticks. My head tilts back and I stare up at the trees with newly sprout leaves. The head rush only gets more intense as I stare up at the trees. I straighten my head so I know where I'm going because I felt a little light headed. 

I put the cigarette back up to my lips, inhale, exhale. The head rush comes back. And I start to remember that I will be okay. Until I trip over a little root in the walk way do I realize that I'm going home to the sight of the only thing close to me dying... 

My mother has been bedridden for a year and a half from a...in short words "accident". It was really my birth father that was the reason. When I was a baby my mother divorced my birth father and moved out, found herself a good job and raised me. We were pretty happy, up until my 12th birthday party. That day my Father showed up, in the middle of me blowing out my candles. My grandfather tried to get him out, but my Father insisted. He came to talk to my Mother. I remember him glancing over at me and my birthday cake, I hadn't realized he was my Father until he was shouting in my mothers face. He was going on about there wasn't very much time, and they needed to get me out. I felt a shiver go down my spine. He grabbed my mother's shoulders and kept shaking her, yelling in her face. She pushed him off of her and said something about this ruining their marriage last time. He looked over at me for a few seconds, a part of me felt like he missed me but then he looked away.  

If he wanted back in my life that meant he loved me. That meant I wasn't worthless...But the way he was yelling and grabbing my mother, not even noticing that it was my birthday party and my friends were there watching it all unravel. My grandfather and my uncle eventually talked him down but before he left he looked over at my uncle and whispered something, my uncle had shock written on his face for a few seconds but then it vanished. And for some reason it made my uncle push him out even harder then he was before. 

He left, and didn't try to contact me until I was 15. Like he did the last time he came, unexpectedly, in the middle of a sleep over. I had 3 friends over, the last of the friends I had. Since the last time, when he spilled my whole life out in front of 12 girls and boys. He didn't try to go through the front door like last time, no he knew he wasn't going to be able to get past my Uncle that was living with us. Instead he carried a pistol with 6 bullets, went from the back and shoot up my kitchen windows and the dining room windows. 

In between my thoughts I put the cigarette up to my lips again and inhale, exhale. 

I could feel my throat burn at the thought that was coming up after. But like my brain, it came anyways. My Uncle's scream echo through my body as the bullet runs through his head. Perfect shot from my Father. All the girls in my room screamed a little, I tried to stay calm. They all rushed into the closet and I snuck out of my room to the living room, I found the phone on the table next to the couch and dialed 911. The operator's voice was calm and soothing but didn't do anything for me because I was already crying and shaking. She kept asking what had happened but it was hard to control my cries. 

I eventually got out my address and that a intruder had shot someone. She instructed me to stay calm and on the ground and the police would be on their way. Even with her soothing voice and the thought that the police were going to be here to take me away from the scene, it didn't help any. I was still shaking and crying uncontrollably. Silently, but still cries. 

And then I heard another gun shot and a shatter. I cover my mouth with my hand, not letting out the scream I had in. More tears stream down my face and my shaking gets worse. And his voice yells from outside. I look around the room for something to protect myself with. The closest thing is a long blade I had hidden underneath the couch. By this time I had already hung up on the operator, I grabbed the blade and stayed down low. 

"All I want is to talk to you Sue!" He screamed my mothers name at the end. I clenched the bottom of the blade where it wasn't sharp to my palm and my other hand over my mouth. I knew my mother was in her room, it was 12:30 at night so she's probably reading. I hope she's okay. With that thought I shake more. I take a breath before getting up and running to the hallway. I creep down the hallway, staying low when I pass doorways. I eventually get to my mothers room, where a light is peaking out from under the door. I don't hear anything when I put my ear up to the door but that doesn't mean anything. 

In seconds of my ear being up to the door I hear a gun shot, shattering glass but no scream. But I do hear footsteps stepping on the hard floors. Then another gun shot, my body shudders and I fall to my knees. My body going limp against the door as my mothers screams erupt through me.

I can't help but yell for my mother. "Mom!" I open the door and behind the door next to the bed is my mother's body, her eyes are open but she's shaking and her gown was drenched in blood on the side. My cries are hysteric and I hold her body up against mine. 
"Oh mommy. You'll be okay. The cops are coming, please just hold on till then. I love you, please." I kiss her forehead. I could feel her hand on my side and the pressure of her hand on me made me feel hope. "Shhh. I love you-baby" Her voice was hoarse and soft. 

I heard police sirens all around. I cry harder and hold my mother closer. "It's almost over mommy. Stay strong, they're here." I say. I let go of her a little and look down at her face. A little droplet of blood leaks down from her nose and her eyes go a little dark. She blinks and looks back up at me. "I'll always love you, remember that okay?" I try to blink away a tear but it blurs my vision and rolls down my cheek anyways. 
The door in the living room gets knocked down and shouts come from down the hall. I scream out "My mom, she's hurt! In here!" It was hard and a struggle to force out but I got it out.. In seconds two men were standing in the door while I was laying helplessly on the floor with my mother. The man's face was hard but went to soft with in seconds, seeing the scene. He spoke behind him to the other man, instructing them to go out around the perimeter and look for the intruder. Then he was on the ground next to me, he took my mother from me and everything went in a blur from there. 
Men pulled me from the scene, and out of my house. I didn't know where I was. I lost all hope that day. 

I remember my mother being pulled away in an ambulance car. And then balled up all alone, not knowing where to go, I was lost. No one really knew where to put me, and all the girls that were still in the closet. 

I zone back out of my daze and put the cigarette up to my lips and inhale. The foggy memory becomes more bearable with the sting of my lungs and the head rush to the brain. The wind blows my long black waves to the back of my shoulders. Feeling the wind on my face makes me feel more relaxed and at ease. I look around a bit, turning my head to the wind, making my purple bangs flop into my face. A loose strand goes in my mouth a little. I move it away with my finger and put the cigarette back up to my lips. The inhale and exhale of it makes me not want to go back to the haze memory. I feel the heat of the cigarette on my fingers and the smoke traveling up to my face. 

The way the smoke travels is wonders, the different movements and flow of the smoke is always amazing to me. I know if my mother were out of bed she would never approve of me to turn to "harsh outlets" , as she always put it. I loved her to death, but I always felt like I had to be a different person... I didn't have any other outlet because my mother didn't want to really get to understand what was wrong with me..Even though I don't really know what's wrong with me. I turned to other things..I became obsessed, you could say with my own blood. I craved it as you will. I don't know what it is about it. It's just so magnificently peaceful. 

The feel of the blade on my skin and trickle of blood go down my wrist to the floor. Something about it just pleases me, but that's not even close the the taste. The taste was what drove me crazy, made me crave it even more. I never thought I could be so addicted to something. Nothing's like the rush and the feel of my own blood go down my throat. And the warn feeling it leaves on my tongue. Making every inch of my body dance. I loved it, I needed it. 

I push that thought away for the moment, because I could feel my body need it. And i couldn't have that when I was in the middle of walking home. I put up the cigarette to my lips and inhaled it again, helping relieve the stress of it. It numbs it a bit but not enough. I throw it on the ground and step on it as I run through the path to my house. I could see it through the trees and I could feel my heartbeat pick up, making the craving of blood more intense. Which fueled it even more. 

 

As I get to my backyard of my house I walk up the steps to the porch and go through the back door, leading to the kitchen. The kitchen light was on so I knew my mothers nurse was either  here or was here. Either that means my mom got her food and everything. I set my bag down on the chair and step into the hallway, leading down to the last door on the left, my mothers room. I hear shuffling, and my mothers daily Ellen DeGeneres show on. I knock on the door slightly, and it creaks open and I see my moms hospital bed with her propped up and awake. 

She gives me a little smile as I walk through and a wave. My mothers tray is on her lap with half her food gone. "Hey sweetheart, how are you today?" Her voice wasn't as sweet as her words. It had a hint of bitter behind it. I could see it. I pushed it aside, not focusing it but on the words. "I'm alright. How are you?" I say while sitting down on a chair next to her bed and stealing one of her fries, smiling at her a little. More of a tease then an apology. She gave me a foul look. I looked away and to the TV. "I'm okay too. The nurse just left to get my prescriptions for the week. So you can go get something to eat if you would like. You know where the money is. But i don't want to be around you right now, Ellen." She points to the TV. I look at her and nod, not pushing anything and walking out, closing the door behind me. 

Alright, that was different. My mother must have not had a very good night or something. I push it away and walk to my room. Closing the door and sitting on my bed. I grab my little bag from in my nightstand and take out one of the blades. A gleam from the metal shines and I stare down at it. No hesitation, I put it up to my wrist and slide it across without hesitation. The blood bubbles out from under the cut and the pain shoots up my arm. It's not so much pain anymore as it is pleasure. Tingles go everywhere and the heat fills my body. It drips and drips down to my bed sheets, leaving little stains. I lick the remaining blood from my arm, the taste soaks into my tongue, causing a head rush. The shocks go every where and the craving becomes more. I slide the blade across my skin again, licking it all up before it has the chance to leak down. I suck on the spot of cuts, the warm liquid tingles my tongue and dances its way down my throat. I close my eyes, feeling my body go numb I fall back onto my bed. 

I run my hands down my sides, the blood smearing onto my white shirt I was wearing, but I don't have any interest in caring. The haze of the blood made my mind go everywhere and I zone out. 

~To be Continued~ 

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