Rockstar Serenade: The Verse

Ch 2: The Truth Behind The Scars, I'm Unloved

dedicated to @CatchTheFallingStar, my brother's friend, for being my brother's friend xD Thank you, number 1,000 :P

KAILEY~

Whenever I undress myself, I can't help but wince from the pain while the fabric slowly abrades from my skin. I always thought that cutting my thighs would be a good idea since with a pair of jeans, the scars could be concealed easily. Even so, I could just tell others that they are merely chafes from tight undergarments or from my skinny jeans. Little did I know back then that the partially healed scars would hurt like hell when they rub against my pants and I hadn't even considered it.

I gingerly take large paces until I make it in front of my room's full body mirror. Preparing myself for the most painful seconds of my day, I close my eyes and bite my lower lip before I begin to slowly pull down my jeans. Hell, this is torture.

Thankfully, the pain I feel alleviates, though very slowly, as time goes by. I take off my long-sleeved shirt next, revealing parallel lines on my wrists similar to the ones on my thighs. The ones on my wrists aren't as many as the ones on my lower extremities, but they are too obvious against my pale skin that people will always notice them.

The mirror in front of me shows a pathetic, helpless girl I have always hated. She stands there with nothing but her underwear on and stares back at me while clutching her clothes with one hand. Her lips are slightly apart and her brows are drawn together. Those eyes are dull and passive like misery has sucked out life from it. She holds a blank expression, not wanting to give any clues away, but I am the only one who can decipher her inner thoughts. So, what is she thinking?

'What do you want, exactly?'

"What do I want?" I reflect the voice inside my head. With a help from my previous theraphy sessions, I vowed to stop hurting myself and let my wounds heal, but I don't exactly know what to do next. I'd finish high school and get a mundane job, but I'll eventually die anyway. What do I possibly want to do with my life?

I need a purpose, a dream, a motivation... anything to keep me going. Who, or what, do I live for? Surely I don't live for my family, and I have only a few friends.

Friends.

That word is just so foreign to me. 

But, to think that a boy would be bold enough to sit beside me, introduce himself and talk nonsensically, for once I felt like I'm somebody. Of all people inside the classroom, he actually chose me, a lonely girl on one corner with her headphones on and clings onto music just to stay alive. I never thought I'd make a friend on the first day of school.

Trevor James Radburn. For once I knew I'll never forget his name.

A small, cautious movement by the reflection in the mirror had me gazing at it again.This time, however, there's something disturbingly different. Her lips' corners are curving slightly towards her eyes, forming a feeble smile. Her eyes glints and her cheeks turns from pale to pink. It is odd indeed, seeing myself like this.

I reach for the reflection until the tips of my fingertips feel the cold and smooth surface of the mirror. This is one of my occasional moments of serenity. Dropping my used clothes to the floor, I bow down 'til my long hair tunnels the view of my toes. I remind myself that I have to thank this boy for at least making me feel like I exist.

But, the thoughts on the boy didn't stray my thoughts from the marks of my self-harming and the questions about my purpose in life. My scars are still here and I still feel the throbbing pain. Returning my gaze at the mirror, I stare at the girl's pitiful situation. Self-harming and sad eyes telling a silent tale of a sad childhood and a lonely home. At the instant, I understood why people looked down at me with disgust.