Tales of a Chemical Romance
Teenagers
Ashlee stared at her reflection in the dimly lit bathroom mirror.
It stared straight back at her.
A heart shaped pale face, framed with messy, jet black hair. Big blue eyes. Ashlee didn’t like her eyes. They reminded her of a Japanese anime character.
She frowned. Her blonde roots were showing. They’d need to be retouched soon. She swiftly combed through her hair with her fingers.
She could hear a dull thudding sound coming from outside the bathroom door.
“Ashlee! Hurry the fuck up… I need to curl my hair!”
It was her sister. Ashlee didn’t reply. Instead, she concentrated on applying black kohl eyeliner to the inside rims of her eyelids. One layer… a second layer…
“Ashlee! FUCK!”
Another loud thump, this time jarring Ashlee so much that her hand slipped; her eyeliner pencil poking her eyeball.
She sighed irritably as tears welled up in her left eye, and the eyeliner she’d been working so hard on disintegrated in a streak of a tear. The bathroom door burst open.
“For fucks sake Ashlee, put down the eyeliner, there’s no way you could look anymore emo than you already do…” snapped Angelina, angrily brushing past her.
“What are you looking at? You can go now!”
Before she left for school, Ashlee was approached by her mum. She groaned inwardly. The same routine, every morning.
“Wrists.”
Ashlee held out both arms in front of her, turned upwards, exposing the vulnerable skin of her wrists and arms. They were marked with thin, criss-crossing scars, from the start of her wrists to the crook of her elbows. However, today there were no fresh marks, and her mum seemed to be satisfied with this.
This whole routine didn’t make sense. It began after the weekly family counselling sessions. Ashlee had been forced to admit that yes, she was a cutter. Her mum had been horrified, and had been checking her daughter’s wrists every morning since. It didn’t help. Her mum couldn’t stop her cutting, even if she tried. There was no way that she could explain the truth to her mum. That she liked the pain, that it was therapeutic. That the scars reminded her that life would never be perfect. Ashlee didn’t care anyway. She’d stopped cutting since she’d met Ryan. He was her therapy now. Her heart leapt as the thought of seeing him in school that day occurred to her. He was her reason for living.
The jangling sound of her mobile phone startled her out of her daydream, as she realised that she was halfway through her school journey. She looked at the screen, and smiled. Ryan.
“Dnt go in2 skl today. Meet me in the woods. I fucking <3 you. R x”.
I fucking love you. Ashlee adored that phrase. She and Ryan said it to each other all the time. There was something about the brutal, raw, passionate honesty of it that made it so desirable…
She pondered as to the reason why Ryan wanted to meet in the woods. She wasn’t surprised about the skipping school, as that was a regularity for the both of them. School was an abyss, the one place where individuality was not an option.
Bemused, Ashlee about-turned and headed in the direction of Higham wood.
It stared straight back at her.
A heart shaped pale face, framed with messy, jet black hair. Big blue eyes. Ashlee didn’t like her eyes. They reminded her of a Japanese anime character.
She frowned. Her blonde roots were showing. They’d need to be retouched soon. She swiftly combed through her hair with her fingers.
She could hear a dull thudding sound coming from outside the bathroom door.
“Ashlee! Hurry the fuck up… I need to curl my hair!”
It was her sister. Ashlee didn’t reply. Instead, she concentrated on applying black kohl eyeliner to the inside rims of her eyelids. One layer… a second layer…
“Ashlee! FUCK!”
Another loud thump, this time jarring Ashlee so much that her hand slipped; her eyeliner pencil poking her eyeball.
She sighed irritably as tears welled up in her left eye, and the eyeliner she’d been working so hard on disintegrated in a streak of a tear. The bathroom door burst open.
“For fucks sake Ashlee, put down the eyeliner, there’s no way you could look anymore emo than you already do…” snapped Angelina, angrily brushing past her.
“What are you looking at? You can go now!”
Before she left for school, Ashlee was approached by her mum. She groaned inwardly. The same routine, every morning.
“Wrists.”
Ashlee held out both arms in front of her, turned upwards, exposing the vulnerable skin of her wrists and arms. They were marked with thin, criss-crossing scars, from the start of her wrists to the crook of her elbows. However, today there were no fresh marks, and her mum seemed to be satisfied with this.
This whole routine didn’t make sense. It began after the weekly family counselling sessions. Ashlee had been forced to admit that yes, she was a cutter. Her mum had been horrified, and had been checking her daughter’s wrists every morning since. It didn’t help. Her mum couldn’t stop her cutting, even if she tried. There was no way that she could explain the truth to her mum. That she liked the pain, that it was therapeutic. That the scars reminded her that life would never be perfect. Ashlee didn’t care anyway. She’d stopped cutting since she’d met Ryan. He was her therapy now. Her heart leapt as the thought of seeing him in school that day occurred to her. He was her reason for living.
The jangling sound of her mobile phone startled her out of her daydream, as she realised that she was halfway through her school journey. She looked at the screen, and smiled. Ryan.
“Dnt go in2 skl today. Meet me in the woods. I fucking <3 you. R x”.
I fucking love you. Ashlee adored that phrase. She and Ryan said it to each other all the time. There was something about the brutal, raw, passionate honesty of it that made it so desirable…
She pondered as to the reason why Ryan wanted to meet in the woods. She wasn’t surprised about the skipping school, as that was a regularity for the both of them. School was an abyss, the one place where individuality was not an option.
Bemused, Ashlee about-turned and headed in the direction of Higham wood.