I Think I May Be Sorry

Drops of water dripped onto the hardwood floor as I shut the front door. Damned rain.

“Hey, sweetie,” My mom greeted me with a smile.

I stared blankly past her.

“How was your day?” She grinned, and took a sip of a liquid out of a generic plastic cup.

I shrugged my shoulders, and started walking towards the stairs, leaving a path of damp footprints behind me.

I shuffled up the stairs, clinging to the handrail. I huffed out a breath when I got to the top, and forced my aching muscles to keep me walking long enough to get to my room. I plopped down onto my bed, and lied down. I curled up, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to hold myself together. I closed my eyes, and sucked in a lungful of air, trying to keep my thoughts straight. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathing slowly really doesn’t work. I just do it to keep my mind off of everything that’s going on, and sometimes it works. Sometimes I can breathe slowly, and get up and be fine. But other times, I can breathe slowly, and all it does is rip down my guard, and everything that I bottle in is let out, and thrown at me when I’m the most vulnerable.

Guess what happened this time.

Today was just another day, just another breakdown…

It ain’t easy, growing up in world war three, never knowing what love could be. You’ll see, I don’t want love to destroy me like it has done my family. Waking up to Family Portrait. Now that’s pretty ironic. I sighed, and wiped the dried tears off my face, and sniffled. The sound of glass shattering filled my ears, the tinkling of tiny shards hitting the floor echoing throughout the air. I bolted up, my head spinning. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I pulled on a black and pink jacket, with a fur hood, and grabbed my iPod. I knew what was happening, and I knew I had to get out of here.

Fast.

I opened my window, and dashed down the trestle that was connected to the side of my house. The sharp burning in my muscles was long forgotten. When I got to the bottom, I turned my iPod on, put the headphones in my ears, and spared a glance through the window. She was red faced, and pieces of glass scattered the floor. They glittered, with all their lethal potential, in the dim light. Her fists were curled into claws, and words that were muted by the glass were pouring from her mouth. I gasped, and silent tears fell down my face, salty tears kissing my lips.

I turned around, and ran across the mushy grass, and onto the slick pavement. I wiped tears away, but more kept falling. I ran down to the end of my road, and took a left. I didn’t know where I was running, but I was running somewhere. My feet seemed to travel on there own. Maybe they were taking me somewhere important, or maybe they were helping me run from my problems. I don’t know.

Finally, I stopped. I’d ended up by the woods, near the creek that ran through the middle of my tiny neighborhood. A path, clear of briars and tangled bushes that dominated the rest of the forest, led the way through the dense growth. I slipped into the woods, and sped up as I drew nearer to the bank of the creek. At last, the flowing crystal water came into view, and I sat down, and leaned against the thick trunk of a massive oak tree. I leaned my head backwards against the tree, and the moon’s pale face shone down on me, contrasting with the blackness of the night.

I pulled my jacket around me, and let my guard fall completely away. The tears that were falling from my eyes intensified, dripping onto my jacket. My body started shaking with sobs. My hands clenched the wet leaves cushioned under me, and I closed my eyes, praying that when I opened them, the world would be engulfed in flames, burning all the insanity and evil away. I reached into my pocket, and my hand settled onto my cold, metal secret. As I pulled the knife out of my pocket, I held it to my wrist, and pressed down. I felt the blade cutting into my skin, but the only pain I could feel was the throb inside my chest, and the sobs that threatened to tear me in half.

Without warning, a warm hand grabbed my wrist, and a strong arm wound around my waist. I dropped the knife and looked up. A pair of heart-stopping, painful, hazel eyes met my gaze.