Slit
Slit
“Honey, it’s so humid out. Why do you still have that jacket on?” Amy questioned, stretching perfect, scarless legs out in the grass surrounding her perfect, scarless house.
“It’s a fashion statement,” Lacey said, pasting on a smile. She hated when Amy asked about the jacket. She knew she’d find out eventually. They’d been friends at least 6 months. She was surprised it took her this long to become suspicious.
“Honey, it’s not a fashion statement, it’s a fucking deathwish,” Amy joked. “It’s April, dearest, take it off.”
“No,” Lacey said, forcing her voice to sound playful, to not betray her fear. Amy would find out. Amy would hate her. Lacey would be alone.
“Come on, don’t make me pull it off,” Amy threatened, grabbing the zipper and pulling it down. Lacey squealed, holding the sleeves of her jacket in tight fists, assuring they wouldn’t be uncovered.
“Lacey? What are you hiding? Gang tattoos? Sharpie war with your little sister?” Amy hollowly joked. She could tell Lacey was upset. But why?
Lacey couldn’t even smile anymore. She would find out. She would hate her. She would leave.
“Lacey?” Amy grabbed the quivering girl’s hands, squeezing them between her own, before yanking the sleeve up violently. “Oh, honey,” The older girl gingerly touched each jagged, uneven scar, almost as if she was afraid they would reopen, pouring crimson regret over the two of them. “Oh, honey, why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Lacey whispered, trying to get her arm back, but Amy kept her grip firm.
“Tell me why,” her voice growing firmer, and yet quivering.
“It was a long time ago,” the younger girl lied. Just last night, she had consulted her old friends, after a run in with Andy.
“I don’t give a shit when it happened!” Amy shouted, tears streaming down her face. “I just wanna know why you’d do this to yourself! Why, Lacey, just tell me fucking why!”
“My stepdad beats the shit out of me and treats me like shit and make me just wanna die sometimes. That’s why! I just wanna die rather than deal with this shit!” Lacey yelled, turning around, not wanting to see Amy’s disgusted look.
Two slender, pale arms slid around Lacey’s waist and pulled her close to a slender, warm body. Through the thin material of their T-shirts, she thought she could feel the other girl’s heart beating against her back.
“Oh, sweetie,” the older girl crooned, fiddling with a strand of Lacey’s mousy brown hair. “Why didn’t you say anything to me? You know I love you. You know I’d have helped you.” Lacey felt a warm teardrop run from Amy’s cheek to her own. The other girl lightly brushed her lips against the top of her head. “Don’t do this anymore, honey. Promise me.” Lacey clung to the arms entwined around her.
“I promise.”
“It’s a fashion statement,” Lacey said, pasting on a smile. She hated when Amy asked about the jacket. She knew she’d find out eventually. They’d been friends at least 6 months. She was surprised it took her this long to become suspicious.
“Honey, it’s not a fashion statement, it’s a fucking deathwish,” Amy joked. “It’s April, dearest, take it off.”
“No,” Lacey said, forcing her voice to sound playful, to not betray her fear. Amy would find out. Amy would hate her. Lacey would be alone.
“Come on, don’t make me pull it off,” Amy threatened, grabbing the zipper and pulling it down. Lacey squealed, holding the sleeves of her jacket in tight fists, assuring they wouldn’t be uncovered.
“Lacey? What are you hiding? Gang tattoos? Sharpie war with your little sister?” Amy hollowly joked. She could tell Lacey was upset. But why?
Lacey couldn’t even smile anymore. She would find out. She would hate her. She would leave.
“Lacey?” Amy grabbed the quivering girl’s hands, squeezing them between her own, before yanking the sleeve up violently. “Oh, honey,” The older girl gingerly touched each jagged, uneven scar, almost as if she was afraid they would reopen, pouring crimson regret over the two of them. “Oh, honey, why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Lacey whispered, trying to get her arm back, but Amy kept her grip firm.
“Tell me why,” her voice growing firmer, and yet quivering.
“It was a long time ago,” the younger girl lied. Just last night, she had consulted her old friends, after a run in with Andy.
“I don’t give a shit when it happened!” Amy shouted, tears streaming down her face. “I just wanna know why you’d do this to yourself! Why, Lacey, just tell me fucking why!”
“My stepdad beats the shit out of me and treats me like shit and make me just wanna die sometimes. That’s why! I just wanna die rather than deal with this shit!” Lacey yelled, turning around, not wanting to see Amy’s disgusted look.
Two slender, pale arms slid around Lacey’s waist and pulled her close to a slender, warm body. Through the thin material of their T-shirts, she thought she could feel the other girl’s heart beating against her back.
“Oh, sweetie,” the older girl crooned, fiddling with a strand of Lacey’s mousy brown hair. “Why didn’t you say anything to me? You know I love you. You know I’d have helped you.” Lacey felt a warm teardrop run from Amy’s cheek to her own. The other girl lightly brushed her lips against the top of her head. “Don’t do this anymore, honey. Promise me.” Lacey clung to the arms entwined around her.
“I promise.”
♠ ♠ ♠
One and only chapter.