Ok, you guys are going to hate/love me. This is the last chapter! I am done finally! I think it turned out, right. But, that's just me. Hope you guys enjoy this.
Chapter dedicated to:
To Being An Us For Once
Siofra22-the whole "tickle my fancy" thing didn't hit me until your review. That was unintentional.
Story dedicated to:
Yami no Seto
If I missed anyone, sorry .
Chapter 8: Pain doesn't hurt when it's all you've ever felt.
-Four Months Later-
'I can't believe everything that has happened in the last four months. I started cutting again about 2 months ago. No big deal there. No one has found out yet, and they won't find out. The bad thing is that I haven't written anything since. I have had a bad case of Writer's Block. It's horrible I hate it. Roger and I are still together. Joanne and Maureen adopted a little girl named Samantha. Even though she's only 7, she has become quite the boho girl. The most shocking thing that has come out of this is Collins and Benny. They announced that they were together the day after Clive & Mimi's wedding. Ah the wedding. Mimi looked so beautiful in her white dress.'
Tears finally roll down my face at the last thought. I haven't been able to cry until now. It's only been a couple of hours since we laid the youngest bohemian in the ground and I can't move. I've just been sitting here replaying everything over and over in my head. Roger left a while ago claiming that he needed time to think. Benny and Collins left for their apartment and Maureen and Joanne are at their house with Sam. So I'm left here trying to not cut. I don't feel that it's right to cut on the day of Mimi's funeral. It just wouldn't be fair to her. But God how I want to. I can't wait until tomorrow when I can finally drag the blade across my skin. To distract myself from my little friend, I begin to clean the loft.
As I am cleaning off the table, my arm begins to itch. I hate when it does this. It's reminding me that I need to cut. It's like my arm needs this as much as I do. I try to ignore it, but I can't. So I just start to scratch my arm. I scratch my arm so hard that the skin becomes a violent red and a hint of blood rises to the surface. The little bit of blood that is there is really inviting. It's calling to me and my god I want to answer. Maybe just one small cut. I mean I can't wait until tomorrow, no day but today. Isn't that what Mimi and Angel always said. It would be an insult to them if I wait, right?
I stand up and start pacing. I hope Roger returns soon, he can distract me. I wonder where he is. What if he got mugged or worse got high? I don't think I could live with the thought of Roger turning to drugs. This is Roger, I have nothing to worry about. He wouldn't do that to me. Would he? He might, I mean the girl he loved just died. It's April all over again. He probably is getting stoned. If that's what he wants to do then see if I care. Since he gets to go get high, I get to cut. Besides, it'll only be one cut. Yeah, one will be just enough.
I walk into the bathroom and pull my blade out of my back pocket. I look at the small object and I feel…complete. Even Roger doesn't make me feel this whole. The blade fits perfectly in my tight grip, like it was meant to be there. Deciding I have wasted enough time, I pull up my sleeve and bring the razor to my wrist. I make a shallow line and try not to moan at the pleasure it brings. "Mark?" I didn't hear the loft door open. "Mark?" I try to close the bathroom door before he sees anything. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Too late.
"Uh…" Wow, I can't think of anything to say.
"You said you would stop." Actually as I recall, I said I would try. But I won't mention that at the moment. Instead I apologize.
"I'm sorry. It's just that today so hard and I needed it. It was only one cut. I'll never do it again. It was just this once." I hope he believes me.
"Promise?" I smile for all the wrong reasons.
"Of course. I won't need it now, you're here." He pulls me into his arms. After a moment he pulls away and looks down at me.
"You hungry? I got groceries." I nod and he goes into the kitchen. I hear some rustling and then he asks me if I want turkey or ham on my sandwich.
"Turkey." I holler back at him. Carefully, I slip the blade into my back pocket. I put on a smile and head out into the kitchen area. Roger smiles at me and I smile back. He hands me my sandwich and announces that he's going to the bathroom. Probably going to get rid off all of the bad sharp objects. Poor silly Roger. He just doesn't get it. He doesn't understand the fact that he could dull all of the sharp things in the world and I would still find a way to cut.
And I couldn't feel any better. In fact, I think my Writer's Block has been cured. I grab a piece of paper and a pen and hastily write down the words that have come to me all of a sudden.
I know it looks bad.
The angry red lines
that scatter my flesh
must look horrible.
But it's not, trust me!
You think I'm not dealing with it.
You analyze my thoughts and feelings inside and out.
But what you don't see,
Is that I am coping, the only way I know how.
THE END! (Of the…STORY!)
I was thinking of a sequel, but I don't know.
The poem/quote at the end was written today by me. I like it!
Well I really hope you guys enjoyed the story. I had fun writing it.