6. Chapter six
It was one of those nights again. I haven’t had one in while. I thought I was getting better, I really did. I guess I was wrong. I looked in the mirror and saw the one thing I hated most. My own reflection. My eyes were red from crying. My body shaking. My hand clutching the counter. You piece of shit. No one likes you. The voices say again. They would just repeat it over and over again. Your mother is glad she’s dead. She doesn’t have to deal with you anymore.I closed my eyes and said ‘shut up’ over and over again. I put my hand over my ears in hopes of quieting them. Why don’t you just kill yourself? No one likes you. You’re not important. I bit my bottom lip. The taste of blood laced my mouth. ‘Shut up’ I thought as I walked into my room. They seemed to have taken over my body. As if I don’t have control anymore. I reached my hand into the drawer of my dresser and pulled out a razor. “Hi.” I said to it. The voice have now stopped, and left me. I’m all alone again. But I didn’t put the razor down. I walk to my bed and sit criss crossed on my bed. Staring at something I was so familiar with in my hand. I pulled off my pants, now only wearing boxers and a tee shirt. The metal shone in the moonlight. I brought the shape edge and placed it on my scar cover thigh. Just like old times, I pushed until I saw blood. I pulled until I made a good enough cut. In that one cut, I felt a ray of emotions. Sadness, Regret, Pain, Bliss. I pulled the razor from my skin and did the same process multiple times. 14 4 inch long cuts on each thigh. Blood was rolling my skin onto my bed sheet. ‘Shit, I have to get to the bathroom.’ I got up but felt a little uneasy. I walked to my bathroom turned on the light and sat on the floor with my legs straight in front of me. Not enough, not deep enough I heard. They were right. I needed more, and they needed to be deeper. Instead of my thighs, I went for my stomach. I took my shirt off and I looked at old scars. I pulled the razor across my skin and I winched in pain. But then smiled. I deserve this. I’m a piece of shit. I’m no good. Another cut I’m not cared about. I have no value. Another cut I’m worthless. My dad hates me. Another cut. I hate me. Everyone hate me. One last cut. This was the deepest of them all. This one bleed the most, and the longest. I deserve this.
That night I didn’t sleep. I didn’t cry after I cut. I didn’t move. I just let myself bleed onto the towel I was sitting on. I didn’t talk. I didn’t write. I didn’t read. I just stayed on the bathroom floor until I saw light shining in through my window. Even then I didn’t move. Alyssa and dad went to work. Heard them drive off. ‘Didn’t even come to say bye. Typical’ I thought as I head my car drive off. I still stayed in that same position when Jason woke up and got breakfast. I stayed in the same position when he knocked on my door to tell me that it’s 10:30. I replied with a simple ‘okay, thanks’. I stayed in the same position when I heard my phone ring. It was Skylar. When the clock struck 11, that’s when I moved. I got up. Cleaned myself up, took a shower and cleaned my cuts, and got dressed. I looked in the mirror and a single meaningless tear fell from my eye. I wiped it away and walked out of my bathroom.
I grabbed my bags and walked to my door. ‘Be happy. Be the happy Nixon everyone knows. Don’t let Jason see you like this. Pull yourself together. Don’t let Skylar see you like this either. You can do it. You’ve been doing this for a year now. You got this. You’re going on vacation with Skylar. The boy you have mixed feelings for. All summer with him. You don’t know what will happen. You can do this Nixon. You can do it. You have to do it. No one gets to see this side of you. No one. You get dressed in the bathroom, and wear a shirt when you go swimming. Just be the happy Nixon’
With that I put on a smile, opened my door to see a smiling Skylar standing in my front door way.