Page 35 of Tortured Whispers
A boulder sank into the pit of my stomach and my knees turned to jelly. I just wanted friends. I wanted to be normal and sit in the back of the cafeteria laughing and talking without wondering when I’d fuck up an R word or trying desperately to find any word in my vocabulary that didn’t have an R.
I didn’t want to think about how worthless I was or how nobody cared about me. Well, nobody but Cease. He cared. He cared a hell of a lot and I cared about him too. I missed him.
“Move the fuck out of the way.” A guy walked past me and clipped my shoulder. Pain radiated down my arm as I clutched my bicep. A small cry escaped my mouth and I rushed out of the cafeteria.
I headed back to my classroom and sat down, still rubbing my chest and praying for air. Only one other kid was in class eating lunch and it made me wonder if I was that much of a social fuck up that I couldn’t even sit through the entire lunch period in the cafeteria like a normal person.
I wasn’t normal though.
Nothing about me was normal.
Once the last bell of the day sounded, I bolted to the parking lot desperate to get away from the thousands of people roaming San Marino High. Suddenly the inside of my car felt like a quiet sanctuary. My skull throbbed from the headache closing in making my scalp feel much too tight.
I threw my car in drive and sped out of the student parking lot like a crazy woman. I needed air. I needed to breathe.
The closer I got to Caesar’s house, the easier it became to breathe. When I stepped inside and his scent greeted me, I felt my lungs inflate. I was so grateful that the house smelled like him.
He wasn’t home yet but he sent me a text saying he was ten minutes away. That meant I had time to cut. The realization had me rushing to my bedroom and digging out my hidden razor.
I’d tucked it between the box spring and the bed frame in the tiniest of slivers. Once I got it out, I fell to the bed and rocked back and forth, anxious to feel the familiar pain and see the blood.
I yanked my sleeve up baring old and new cuts on my arm. I went to work quickly, digging the sharp razor into my arm to erase today’s events. I wanted to erase the memory of loud chaos, the memory of seeing Ashley Hartwell, and I wanted to erase the memory of the guy bumping me at lunch.
When blood rolled, I breathed. I breathed away the feeling of hopelessness and invisibility. I breathed away the fear and pain. I sniffled watching the pretty red slip and drip. I tilted my hand this way and that watching the show.
No tears fell from my eyes but I cried with the life force raining from my arm. It was the loudest cry I could conjure.
I opened another cut then another and they all cried simultaneously. When I heard Cease’s keys in the door, my heart smashed into the roof of my mouth. I scrambled into the bathroom and ran water to wash my bloody arm. The rush of water stung my skin and I winced, biting my bottom lip.
Once my arm was dry, I pulled my sleeve down and looked at myself in the mirror. “Brook, you in here?” I heard Caesar’s voice and noticed my eyes were brighter. More green than they’d been before. They were…pretty.
Caesar made me feel pretty. The realization made my mouth dry. A small smile danced on my lips as I yanked the hair tie from my messy ponytail.
My hair fell down wild and untamed. I raked my fingers through it even though my right hand was stiff and partially numb. Cease liked my hair down and I loved the look in his eyes when he thought I looked nice.
“I’m in here,” I called out. I rushed into the bedroom and gathered the razor I used to cut. I stashed it in its hiding place and flopped down on the bed.
“Hey, there she is,” he smiled. It was such a deep and satisfied smile that it made me wonder if he really did see beauty when he looked at me.
I leaped into his strong arms and they constricted around me like bands of metal. I needed his security right then. My eyes fell shut and I buried my nose in his shirt. His scent was intoxicating.
“Hi,” I sighed.
“Let’s hear it, Brook. How was your day?” Chills spread out over my arms when I felt him playing in my hair. He sat on the bed and I sat on his lap.
“It was bad. I hated every second. I’m probably making it out to be worse than it really was but…” my voice trailed off and I shrugged my shoulders.
“Don’t downplay your feelings, Brook. If you felt like it was awful then acknowledge that.”
“Okay…it was stressful,” I nodded.
“What was the most stressful part?” His strong fingertips slid up and down my spine offering more comfort.
“I saw Ashley Hartwell,” I told him. I brought my sleeve toward my mouth and sucked on it. Pangs of metallic blood melted on my tongue and sick me rejoiced.
“Wow…did she see you?” He asked, his brows furling together.
“I bumped right into her.” My lips dropped into a frown and the space between my brows creased. “I felt so stupid. My words came out wrong when I tried to apologize.” I chewed on my sleeve as my mind replayed the short interaction over and over. I was a prisoner in my own mind. “God, why the hell can’t I stop thinking about it? I feel insane sometimes,” I growled.
