𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑, e. munson✔︎

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗔𝗟𝗖𝗢𝗛𝗢𝗟 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗥𝗨𝗚 𝗨𝗦𝗘, 𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗠

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟗𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟔. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟑 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭...

I sat in a chair, peeling the skin off my lips, making me get a metallic taste in my mouth as I listened to Cameron. Her voice sounds so raspy like she's losing it. Was it cause of all the singing from last night? Eh, probably.

"So yeah. All we told her was that we'll think about it...hello?" I shake my head.

"Sorry, staring off." I rub my eyes.

"High?" She wondered.

"No, I haven't smoked since that party." I adjust myself in my seat and rub my nose.

"Speaking of parties, wanna go to one tonight?" I hum, thinking about it.

"But we'll have to walk there, Andy took the car." Andy is her brother. He's actually a nice guy. Sensitive though.

"Hmmm..." I hum more.

"Please! I don't wanna go by myself." She whines.

"Why don't you ask Em?"

"She's busy planning a trip with her parents. Y'know, for spring break."

"Oh, that's right! Spring break is like in a week or two, right?"

"Um, yeah." She says in a duh tone.

"So are you gonna come with me or not?" She wonders. I think about it for a few minutes.

"Sure, why not." A smile grows on my face when I hear her small cheers over the phone.

"I'll be over there at 6."

"Alright, see you then." And I hang up.

I groan, pushing myself up from the chair and walking over to my room. I prepare clothes and take a shower. I think I took about an hour in there after washing my body and hair. I don't know why. I just stood there, letting the water hit my back. I'd even turn the knob slowly, increasing the burning sensation on the skin of my back. When I got out and dry myself off, I saw how red my back was. I should really stop doing that.

I went to the room, got dressed then did my hair. I put on some eyeliner and mascara along with some lipstick too. I'm never too heavy on the makeup. Don't know why. Maybe because I don't know how to use that kind of stuff.

I stand in the restroom, looking in the mirror as I do some finishing touches to my hair. I notice the cut on my forearm.

I look at it, tracing my index finger on it. I look up at the person in my mirror. This pathetic person. This waste of air and space. No, stop it. Not again. I open the medicine cabinet, moving stuff around.

"Where...where the fuck is it?" I keep looking but there gone. Did Eddie take them? I rummage around and find a pair of tweezers.

I can't believe I did it again. Why did I do it? I regret the first time but a second time? What is wrong with me?

I panic, turning the faucet on and putting my arm under the running water, watching it mix and flow down the drained red. I'm so stupid. I shouldn't be doing this.

When there was a knock on my door, I felt my heart jump into my throat. Fuck.

I quickly grab the damp tool I used for my hair, wrapping it around my arm and walking over to answer the door. I hide my arm behind the door.