In Love With a Renegade

Chapter 11: Salt in My Wounds

Hayley's POV

You're going to regret this.

Why did you get with Taylor?

Are you really that stupid?

He's no different from the other guys.

Once he leaves, you'll have no one.

You're nothing.

You're just shit, Hayley.

Look at yourself! Hideous!

Taylor is only using you for sex, like the others.

Aww, pathetic Hayley is going to cry. Only if that made you lose all your fat, too.

Another sleepless night as voices of negativity flood my mind. The scary part is, the voices don't belong to anyone else. The voice is mine. It only seemed to get stronger and dominate when I stayed over at York's house. They followed me everywhere, yes. But they're never as strong as they are here.

     I walked over to the bathroom and studied my reflection in the mirror. I finally saw what they were talking about. The voice was right. Everything it said was correct. I caressed my too-plump cheeks as I stared at my disgusting reflection. It wasn't only my reflection that disturbed me. It was me. I opened the medicine cabinet, finding a small blade I hid in there for myself. I looked over my shoulder, making sure Taylor wasn't awake. I didn't want him to see me broken. I didn't want him to suffer what I have to go through. He was still sound asleep in his room.

     Tears fell down my face without my permission as I drew the lines across my arms, blood following the miniature knife. It didn't do as much good as I thought it would. It didn't do as much as I remember it used to. Has everything else already failed to take my misery?

Just kill yourself, the voice said. You're not needed here anyway.

       It was right. No one needed me. Not even Taylor, no matter how nice he seemed. It was all out of pity. I went through the medicine cabinet again, grabbing random pills. Without reading any of the labels, I gulped down one of each, hoping it would end everything. End my pain, end the voice in my head, end the judgment... but most of all, end my life. I took one last look at my hideous reflection, feeling the chemicals destroy my systems.

"Goodbye, Taylor," I whispered as I closed my eyes. Tears spilled down my face again before I broke into sobs. I sat in the corner of the bathroom, sobbing uncontrollably as I continued to cut myself, my engravings deeper than before.

        My stomach churned in awkward ways, making me sick. I rushed to the toilet, where I had up chucked. There was no doubt that the medicines didn't kill me, but made me vomit.

Good job, you're not being a fat ass anymore, the voice vexed. But you failed to kill yourself. You fail at everything. Bile made its way up again, causing me to spit up again. I couldn't take it. My body was shaking violently as I sobbed harder and harder, the voice haunting my mind.

"Hayley?" I heard Taylor call from his room. I woke him up. I failed to halt my weeps, knowing that I'd have to face the fact that he'll finally see who I really am, inside. A broken, torn apart, no good, helpless soul. My stomach heaved again. Quick footsteps entered the bathroom, followed by a gasp.

"Oh God! Hayley!" Taylor's voice was either full of shock or disgust. I couldn't tell. He wiped the bile off my face with a wet rag. He held me face in his hands, his caramel eyes full of worry and tears. "Hayley, what did you do? What is all of this?"

"I'm nothing but a failure, York!" I wailed. He shook his head, the tears swelling in his eyes. "I am nothing! Just trash! A piece of shit!"

"Hayley, no," his voice wavered. "No, that's not true. Who told you all of this?"