Crimson Fat

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, Tristan, and I need to tell you something.” His emerald green eyes shined into her quivering face, but his expression changed. “Are you okay?”
She nodded once and smiled meekly, “Yeah, just cold. Go on.”
He wrapped his arms around her small shoulders and she shivered from his warm body. “We’ve been going out for a year, and everyday is a miracle for me. I keep on thinking that my life is a dream, that I couldn’t possibly be dating the most beautiful girl in Virginia. I’m lucky that not only is she stunningly beautiful, but she’s smart, kind, driven, and all mine.” He sighed and she watched the white fog leave his perfect mouth and disappear in the air. “What I’m trying to say is… no matter what happens I’m always here, and I… I love you.”
The wind rustled the Oak trees that stood high above us, and some leaves fell far to the ground. There were sounds of twigs landed beneath us from the trees, and acorns skidded down the bark with a “thud” as they landed. The sun was already starting to descend and the temperature dropped a few degrees, probably cutting it close to thirty. It could snow tonight.
“Tristan?” his face showed concern, but no regret for what he said. He was waiting for her answer.
She felt her toes wiggle inside her brown Uggs, but couldn’t see them struggle through the thick suede exterior of the boot.
No, say it’s too soon. Don’t ruin the plan.
Her chest inhaled the bitter smell of her unfriendly intruder, and sucked out the warmth she had left. Her frail body felt weak and empty, as it usually was when the intruder was around. Somehow her tongue found a way around her mouth and words tripped sloppily from the intruder through Tristan’s voice.
“It’s too soon.” It came out as a whisper, and her struggles to keep the words within her failed. Her friend had won again. A long time ago she let her take the reins. After all, why try when she would just fall short of her friend’s abilities to play puppet show.
Josh’s fading smile turned down and his eyes blinked furiously. “I don’t understand. I thought you felt the same way.”
Humiliation and guilt were entering her system, filling up her veins. The muscles in her body itched for him, and her heart danced fiercely beneath her chest. She was sure he saw the desire and love in her eyes, so she closed them.
Tell him that you don’t love him.
“Tristan…” his hands searched for her chin again but she pushed away. “Do you love me?”
Tell him.
The sky was almost clear of the sun and it for sure looked like a snowy night.
Tell him!
Her eyes opened abruptly and the corners of her mouth turned down. Creases formed above her eyebrows as she opened her mouth. “No!” she didn’t mean to shout at him. The pitch was more for her than him.
His expression turned to dismay and then sorrow as his breathing slowed. “Okay. I guess… I’ll just go.”
Look what you did. You’re incapable of anything.
She put her fists to her temples and closed her eyes for what seemed like forever.

You stupid girl! You’re worthless and inconsiderate! Everyone you know hates you! You can’t do anything right! Josh is probably in his room crying because of you!
She put her hands over her ears and fell on top of her bed. The tears were starting to come and she couldn’t take the voices anymore. This whole day was perfect until she had to mess if up. Why? Why the hell would she even consider letting someone into her life? All she does is mess them up or disappoint them or ignore them.
You’re right, for once. You aren’t going to let anyone in anymore. From now on, it’s you and me. And luckily for you, I’ll never leave.
She was sobbing now, long, hard breaths of exhaustion and defeat and no matter what she was never seeing Josh again. She sat up on her bed and looked around the large, empty room. A sharp breath left her mouth and she got up to reach into a small drawer under her desk. The sharp object welcomed her with a glistening shiny point and she went back to her bed.
Now you’re going to give yourself the punishment you deserve, Fat Ass.
More sobs came as she guided the blade down her wrist. She sighed when she saw the thick river of crimson run down to her hand and she clenched up her fist so the liquid ran through her fingers.
You’re sick.
But at least she was feeling nothing again. Nothing was better than something. Next, she made three more lines two inches long, and when she was done she returned the knife to the drawer and went to the bathroom to clean up. The blood washed right off her hands and down the sink drain, but she dapped the rest from the cuts with toilet paper. Then she thought about putting gauze over her wrist since bandaids wouldn’t suffice, but thought against it.
Why cover your evidence of punishment? You know you did wrong, and here’s something to prove that.
When she went back to her bed the air stung her open wounds, so she grabbed her wrist in her opposite hand and clenched tightly. The stinging didn’t stop, so she lay down and closed her eyes, praying for sleep to find her.
What a brilliant end to the day.