From the Razor to the Rosary (Completed)

Chapter Eight - Bury Me In Black.

  I jerk awake to find the space next to me vacant, I sit up quickly, too quickly. Blood rushes to my brain and I go dizzy, my eyesight fails me and I have to wait a few minutes for my body to return to normal. When I blink the dizziness from my eyes, I realise it’s late into the night, the room is dark, but the curtains are still open, and moonlight spills into my room to light it with an eerie blue glow. 

  I push out of bed, throwing my covers away from me. 

  “Gerard?” I call, looking around. No one is here, I look around my room, no sign of him. The emptiness hits me square in the chest, so hard I almost double over. Gerard’s gone. A thought creeps into my mind, a mean little voice that whispers that Gerard never was here, that I made it all up so that I could deal with everything. I shake my head, hot tears falling down my cheeks easily, no, no that’s not true. 

  It is. The voice whispers back harshly. He left you. He didn’t come back. He left and it’s all your fault. 

  I give a broken sob, it’s right. I know it is. The voice speaks honestly and there’s nothing I can do to deny that. I double over, clutching my stomach that rumbles painfully from hunger. 

  There’s a blade in the bathroom, the voice whispers helpfully. 

  I shake my head again, disagreeing this time. I promised, I promised myself that yesterday was the first and last time I’d do that. I don’t need to hurt myself. I don’t, I don’t. But as I look down at my wrist, the cut must have started bleeding again, because blood has dried down my arm. I press my index finger into the wound, it starts to bleed again but I don’t care, it comforts me, the pain of it all. 

  I told you. The voice sneers. Do it, the blade is in the cupboard. This time I don’t even argue, I stumble to my feet and across the hall into the dark bathroom, I flick on the light and wince as it hurts my eyes. 

  I go over to the cupboard where I got the first aid kit earlier, I pull open the mirror to reveal the cupboard behind it, looking inside, I see my razor on the self, I don’t want that, it may not cut deep enough, so instead I take out the hairdressing scissors that Helena uses for my own hair, they’re sharp, for cutting fine hair accurately. 

  I pause while I press the cool metal to my wrist, a few centimetres from the first cut. Do I have to do this? Do I? I promised myself I wouldn’t. I go to draw the scissors from my skin, but that same small voice quickly starts whispering again. 

  Katherine left you. Helena left you. Gerard left you. None of them want you, you aren’t good enough to be here, do it. Do it. You deserve it. 

  I agree with the voice whole heartedly, and the next thing I know, the blade is arching down and slicing my skin, I wince as the stinging comes again for the second time, I drop the scissors to the floor, the throbbing starts again, the tears stop flowing from my eyes though, my stomach no longer aches with hunger, the voice in my head is gone, a silence that scares me left in its place. The emptiness in my chest has gone, the stinging in my wrist takes over everything and for that I am so glad. 

  I slide to the floor, bringing my knees up to my chest and letting my left hand fall to the floor, where I feel my blood slide down my arm and start to pool around my skin. I don’t really care though, why should I? I deserve this. 

  I do deserve this, I deserve all the pain that comes with this, it’s all my fault. If I was a better daughter Katherine would be here. If I was a better girl Helena wouldn’t have left. If I was a better best friend Gerard wouldn’t have killed himself. If I was prettier and skinnier maybe I’d have more friends and people wouldn’t call me names.