I'm Not Bulletproof

I was woken up by the sun’s bright rays on my eyes. I guess in the midst of tearing the room apart last night I forgot to shut the blinds.

I have to say I feel accomplished by my actions last night. I finally took a step forward in being a better friend. I no longer feel bad about doing nothing to help Alexi. Now only if I can keep it up. He might get a little fed up by the whole thing, but it’s for his own good.

But I am not necessarily looking forward to seeing how his recent addition to his collection is going to look. Not in the least.

When I cut my knee really badly, the cut looked worse a few days after the accident. I can’t even begin to think what his wrist is going to look like.

If it were up to me, he would have gotten stitches, but he declined. If Alexi were to go to the hospital the nurses would ask him how he got the cut. He can’t lie on that one; it’s too obvious. They would also call his parents. I wonder if his parents even know about his problem. Maybe I’ll ask him when the time is right.

I move my legs to the other side of the bed and sit up. I glanced at the clock and it read eleven forty-seven am.

It can’t be that late, my eyesight must be bad today. I move closer to the clock and it was indeed almost noon. I haven’t slept this long since I was a child.

Without looking in the mirror to see if I was decent, I dash downstairs and directly into Anna.

“You look worried,” she says.

“Is it really almost noon?” I ask.

“Yeah, Alexi was worried but I told him to let you sleep,” she explains.

“Where is he?”

“Out back,”

I slip on a pair of shoes and open the back door. I see Alexi sitting on the tire swing about twenty feet away.

I hope he is alright, I’ve never seen him in the back yard, or on the tire swing for that matter.

“Alexi,” I say to make my presence known. He moves his body towards my direction and stands.

“Good morning,” he says.

“I probably look like shit,” I run my hand through my tangled hair.

“No, no, you look fine,” he says.

“Why are you here? It’s kind of cold,”

“Just thinking,” he explains.

“Oh,” I wasn’t going to ask him what he was thinking. If Alexi wants to tell me he will, I’m not going to force him.

“I feel guilty that I put this on you,” Alexi motions to his wrist and lets out an awkward chuckle.

“Don’t. I feel the same way,” I rub my hand over my stomach.

“You’ve been spending most of your time looking at yourself in the mirror,” Alexi says.

“Yeah, I guess I have been,”

It’s true. I woke up several times last night to look at my image.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,”

“No you’re not,”

I sigh, “I don’t feel so good about myself, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because I look ugly,”

“But you’re not ugly. Not even close to it,”

Even though Alexi is telling me that I am not ugly, that still doesn’t make me feel any different about myself. Most of the girls I went to school with would call themselves fat or ugly for sympathy and attention from other people. But when I call myself fat and ugly I don’t want people to disagree with me. I’m being brutally honest when I say it.

It really bothers me when those girls would do that. They don’t know how it really feels to hate yourself. They’ll never know the pain of it.

I put my head down and walk towards the door. Alexi puts his hand on my shoulder and walks with me.

I wish I had someone to talk to. Of course I have Alexi, but he wasn’t there for me during the three years of hell. He doesn’t know the whole story. Reta, on the other hand, knows the whole story.

But I am starting to think I have lost all contact with her. I’m getting fed up with trying to call her. I don’t know why I even bother. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk to me.

Why do I care so much?

For someone who hates themself as much as I do, I sure care for a lot of people. I always put people in front of myself. I guess that is the reason why I am like this.

Alexi opens and holds the door for me. At least he cares about me. I honestly think he is the only one. I used to believe Dominik cared for me, but I was wrong. He barely said a word to me at dinner. My mind is still tangled on that.

I put on a fake smile for Alexi. He doesn’t need to be worried about me. He has his own problems.