The Story Of The MCR Buddies
The Day It All Went Wrong
AIMEES DIARY
After the day Lucia and her ‘gang’ attacked me, things went from bad to worse. I lost all the will power to do anything. My grades in school were going from brilliant to failing. I just didn’t give a damn anymore. I just wanted things to return to the way they were.
I sat down in my room and picked up my guitar. I tried to play one of the songs but couldn’t, my hands hurt too badly from where I had been shoved up against a brick wall and punched. My feeble attempt to protect my face had done nothing. I swear one of my fingers had been broken but I didn’t want to cause any fuss so I didn’t say anything. Instead, cursing with the pain, I picked up my guitar and threw it as hard as I could against my bedroom wall. It made a deafening sound but my parents weren’t home so no one was there to hear it. Amazingly, the guitar was undamaged, unlike me.
I made up my mind. I wasn’t ever going to touch the guitar again.
I sank to the floor and held my throbbing hands close to my chest. They were bleeding, the force I used to throw the guitar had reopened all the cuts on my knuckles where Lucia had dug her nails into them. Unaware of it, I started crying, this wasn’t what I wanted to happen. I had no where to turn, Adalia was the only person who I could turn to, but even that wasn’t doing anything to help me at the moment. I know she said that she would help me but I’m scared of what Lucia will do if she intervenes. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head, but instead I found myself looking at the scars on my arm. I hadn’t cut for a year, and I had totally forgotten about it. I ran my hand over my arm, feeling the lumps of the scars.
I got up and dragged my feet towards the bathroom, I passed the clock in the hallway, it was 5:30pm exactly. That meant I had half an hour before my parents were back. I fished in the cabinet draw until I found what I was looking for. A shiny sliver razor in a black pouch. Without thinking I dug the blade into my skin, feeling a wave of relief sweep over me. I looked down at my arm, the blood glistening in the dull light.
This is better, a smile crept over my face.
If only I wasn’t here at all.
After the day Lucia and her ‘gang’ attacked me, things went from bad to worse. I lost all the will power to do anything. My grades in school were going from brilliant to failing. I just didn’t give a damn anymore. I just wanted things to return to the way they were.
I sat down in my room and picked up my guitar. I tried to play one of the songs but couldn’t, my hands hurt too badly from where I had been shoved up against a brick wall and punched. My feeble attempt to protect my face had done nothing. I swear one of my fingers had been broken but I didn’t want to cause any fuss so I didn’t say anything. Instead, cursing with the pain, I picked up my guitar and threw it as hard as I could against my bedroom wall. It made a deafening sound but my parents weren’t home so no one was there to hear it. Amazingly, the guitar was undamaged, unlike me.
I made up my mind. I wasn’t ever going to touch the guitar again.
I sank to the floor and held my throbbing hands close to my chest. They were bleeding, the force I used to throw the guitar had reopened all the cuts on my knuckles where Lucia had dug her nails into them. Unaware of it, I started crying, this wasn’t what I wanted to happen. I had no where to turn, Adalia was the only person who I could turn to, but even that wasn’t doing anything to help me at the moment. I know she said that she would help me but I’m scared of what Lucia will do if she intervenes. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my head, but instead I found myself looking at the scars on my arm. I hadn’t cut for a year, and I had totally forgotten about it. I ran my hand over my arm, feeling the lumps of the scars.
I got up and dragged my feet towards the bathroom, I passed the clock in the hallway, it was 5:30pm exactly. That meant I had half an hour before my parents were back. I fished in the cabinet draw until I found what I was looking for. A shiny sliver razor in a black pouch. Without thinking I dug the blade into my skin, feeling a wave of relief sweep over me. I looked down at my arm, the blood glistening in the dull light.
This is better, a smile crept over my face.
If only I wasn’t here at all.