My Salvation

07.

Chapter seven | the mind

TW: Self harm, (it is not at all detailed, but please skip of this could possibly be a trigger to you <3)

Lucas' pov

"Go to your fucking room!" My father shouts at me, he came home earlier than expected, and walked into the aftermath of the party I had. Some drunk guy accidentally bumped into a framed photo of my mother, causing the glass to break. The photo is perfectly fine, but it still pissed off dad. Also the fact that I had just held a massive party, the house is a huge mess, and his bed sheets smell like sex.

I probably deserve being grounded, but he's going away again tomorrow, so he wants to drop me off at my Grandmas for the week he'll be gone. It means I'll miss school, but that's okay, I don't think I have the courage to show up there for the next three to five business days. So it works out quite well if you ask me.

"Yes sir," I mutter, before saluting him in a sarcastic way and trudging up the stairs to my room. I'll admit, the salute wasn't necessary, but he deserves it. He never actually puts an effort into raising me. He hasn't given me a pat on the back or a "I'm proud of you, son" since I was nine years old. I understand that he lost the loves of his life but does that really mean he can take it out on me for the next eight years of my life?

This "father" of mine didn't even sit down and talk to me about anything. Not about puberty, not about my first girlfriend, not about making it onto the football team, not about becoming captain. Since that day he hasn't even acted like he wants me on his life.

Sometimes I think I deserve it, though. I for sure deserve getting grounding today, especially because of the whole thing with Camila. I know I shouldn't have given Carlos alcohol, but I honestly was really drunk, and didn't even know he was her little brother. I should definitely text her and apologise.

A sigh of frustration escapes my lips as I toss my phone across my room, landing somewhere on my couch. Camila has blocked me. I get why, but it's still annoying. Sure, I'm a fairly outgoing person, but apologising in person seems to be something I've never been good at. Rolling out of my bed, I walk over to my window, Camila's sitting on the end of her bed, her face buried in her hands. She gets up, though, and closes her blinds, but I don't think she even noticed me. She just wants to be left alone. I can respect that.

A knock on my door draws my attention away from her. Hastily, my father drops a suitcase on my floor and says, "Pack your bags, I'm leaving again tomorrow and you can't be trusted. You're staying at you're grandmas place this week. We can talk about the privilege of staying home alone again once we get back." He then promptly shuts my door and walks away, not letting me have a say in the matter.

I suppose it's not too bad of a punishment, I do love staying at grandmas house, and I guess then I have a week to think of how I'm going to apologise to Camila. I will miss Blair though.

I decide to call her, I better let her know that I'm not going to see her for a week. Maybe I'll just sneak out tonight to say goodbye.

Camila's Pov

My minds flooding into a pool of thoughts, bad thoughts. I should have made sure Carlos was at home, I shouldn't have fallen asleep, I should have never joined that friend group. It's my fault. Carlos is going to fall into the wrong crowed. Maria is never going to stop being sad. I always ruin things for us. It's always me. I should do better. I'm probably overreacting. I need to stop overreacting. I need to do better.

Getting up off my bed, and go to my bedside drawer. Fumbling through them, I pull out a lighter.

I quietly curse at myself for going back into this state. For relapsing. For doing something that I used to cry at my mother for doing. People say that history repeats itself, but I don't think that's true. The world doesn't force yourself to do these things, it's your mind, and the things happening in your life. My mother had a good life, but her mind had a horrible one. If you ask anybody, I imagine they would say my life isn't half bad. My mind is what makes things worse. Having a mind, having a conscience, now that's the real curse.

People say the phrase 'the mind plays tricks on you', now that's an accurate statement. Take social anxiety for instance, your mind tricks you into thinking that everyone is staring at and judging you, but they're not. Half the time they won't even glance at you. I probably don't deserve all of the things that has happened in my life, and a lot of it probably isn't my fault, but my mind forces myself into thing I do deserve it, and it is my fault.

Like right now, I'm about to burn my thigh like I always used to, I probably shouldn't, I should probably tell somebody and get help. But I think I should do it. I think I deserve it. I think that doing that is the only way to feel something. It's the only way to soothe my mind. And so I will do it, just like I always do.

And with that, I bring the lighter up to my thighs, right by the rest of the scares, and let the burning flame create yet another product of my minds endless pit of self destruction.

—
A/N

Sorry that this took so long and sorry it's so short

Also, if any of you guys are suffering with self harm or self harming thoughts, please talk to someone, even talk to me if you need to. I know exactly what it's like, and I too am dealing with the same thing.

you're not alone, and you deserve to be happy. No one deserves to go through this. I know it's hard to tell someone, but it truly does help.

Just please take care of your selves, I promise we will all get through this <3

- Juniper x