Sequel: We're together now... ›
I Never Would've Thought..
Chapter Thirty Seven
Mikey's POV
I sat on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, rubbing my face with my callused hands, scratching it with my blunt nails, trying to jog some sense into my brain. One word kept echoing through the tunnels of my thoughts, crashing like a lone electron orbiting a nucleus of dueling emotions:
Why?
I stared at the narrow sheet of steel between my fingers, the shiny blade glinting with so many fluorescent possibilities, considering. Suddenly, the blade slipped and nicked my index finger, drawing a cry of mild surprise. The sharp pain momentarily chased away the blur of confusion in my mind, and I felt a small burst of relief. But the sharp pain faded after a minute to a dull throbbing, and two beads of crimson emerged from the cut, clinging on to my skin. I gripped the blade and brought it to my wrist, then stopped. The blade suddenly felt burning hot, like someone had heated it with glowing embers. My eyes widened, then narrowed, and I flung the blade into the far corner, hearing the thin steely clatter as it got lost amongst mildew and mould.
"Cutting is for fools," I growled. But what was I going to do? I buried my face in my hands, and heaved a sigh that came from the very bottom of my heart. I stood up wearily and straightened up. I would go to talk to Bob about this. That was the only way I could solve anything. Misunderstandings were common when I was concerned, and I could only hope that this was one.
I sat on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, rubbing my face with my callused hands, scratching it with my blunt nails, trying to jog some sense into my brain. One word kept echoing through the tunnels of my thoughts, crashing like a lone electron orbiting a nucleus of dueling emotions:
Why?
I stared at the narrow sheet of steel between my fingers, the shiny blade glinting with so many fluorescent possibilities, considering. Suddenly, the blade slipped and nicked my index finger, drawing a cry of mild surprise. The sharp pain momentarily chased away the blur of confusion in my mind, and I felt a small burst of relief. But the sharp pain faded after a minute to a dull throbbing, and two beads of crimson emerged from the cut, clinging on to my skin. I gripped the blade and brought it to my wrist, then stopped. The blade suddenly felt burning hot, like someone had heated it with glowing embers. My eyes widened, then narrowed, and I flung the blade into the far corner, hearing the thin steely clatter as it got lost amongst mildew and mould.
"Cutting is for fools," I growled. But what was I going to do? I buried my face in my hands, and heaved a sigh that came from the very bottom of my heart. I stood up wearily and straightened up. I would go to talk to Bob about this. That was the only way I could solve anything. Misunderstandings were common when I was concerned, and I could only hope that this was one.