You're Just In Time

“I don’t know, something just doesn’t seem right,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I glanced at Amber’s chocolate brown orbs, shaking my head.

Amber was my best friend—the only person other than Blaise I could trust. She could’ve cared less who my parents where, and that’s why I loved her. She was supportive and had been there for me since about second grade.

“Have you asked you mom?” she brushed her blue bangs from her eyes, forcing me to wince slightly. The color was just too close to Monroe’s.

I nodded, “She insists that everything is right. I don’t believe her. I mean, how can I be Jack’s, if I don’t even look like him?”

She laughed, “You look like your mom, chick.”

I stuck my tongue out at her, rolling my orbs, “Whatever. I just wanna know, you know?”

“I know,” Amber grinned, “why not go snoop around? She’s bound to have your birth certificate and shit lying around somewhere.”

One simple conversation that landed me where I was now, and I couldn’t help but grin deviously all the while. Mom and dad were at their separate studios, while Blaise was crashing on the couch. What better of an opportunity than now to look for my records from the hospital?

I moved another box, furrowing my brow as I pulled out the various baby pictures. There were a ton, mostly full of me and Blaise being all cute—cute like any kid seemed to the public eye. Kaleb was holding me in a few, such as one where I was pushing his face away from mine and crying. Monroe, in one, was holding my hand while Blaise was on her hip. There were just a ton of memories in here that I didn’t even want to bother to relive.

I pushed aside the box, pulling out the next one from mom’s walk-in closet and nearly jumped for joy. I pulled out the copies of birth certificates and old passports, grinning madly, as I came across the original.

I skimmed over my name, date and place of birth, until I came across the ‘Parents:’ section. I sucked in a breath, reading: Mother (Maiden name) Abigail Johnson. Father Kaleb Barnes.

My eyes immediately stung, and I hissed under my breath; never being one to like to cry. I threw the documents back in, getting to my feet and shoved the box away from my being. I crossed my arms over my chest, huffing slightly until I turned and made a break for it.

I shut my door behind me, before making my way into my joint bathroom and grabbed my tiny bag from underneath the sink. I sat on the edge of the tub, pulling out my long lost friend—my razor blade.

I slid the blade across my inner thigh, gasping at the sudden sting of pain. I traced over old scars, making them appear deeper and darker, before placing my blade back on the sink.

I watched the thick liquid ooze from the perpendicular wounds, not bothering to stop it as it made its way to the floor. I leaned over, running toilet paper along each cut, cleaning them with alcohol in the process.

After bandaging the aching flesh, I retrieved my little, black lock box from my cupboard. I pulled out my bottle of heroine, assembling the needle and syringe, before sticking it into my arm.

I titled my head back as the rush hit me. I tucked everything away slowly, getting to my feet and pushed myself into my room.

“Melody,” Blaise’s voice caught me off guard, forcing me to snap out of my senseless daze.

I giggled as he came into view, pushing my bangs from my face, “Blaise!”

He slid his hand along the wall, hesitating with each step, as he stepped over to my bed. He sat next to me, a sigh escaping his lips, “Are you okay?”

“Sure, sure,” I crawled onto my knees, pushing my hands into his hair, “I missed you.”

“You sound tired; let’s get you to sleep,” he pushed me back, worry hinted in his voice. He forced me to lie on my back, a giggle escaping my lips.

- - - -

I opened my eyes, growling under my breath as the sun hit my face. I rolled onto my side, feeling the familiar arms locked against my waist as Blaise breathed slowly; he was still asleep.

I leaned up, kissing his forehead, before sliding from his grasp. I walked into my bathroom, turning on the shower. After stripping, I stepped in and allowed the warmth to hit me. I washed my hair and body, turning off the flow. I stepped out, wrapping the towel around my torso and walked into my room.

I pulled on a white bra and white underwear, along with my black tank top. Sliding my black skinny jeans up, topping them off with my white belt. I pulled my loose, lime green v-neck over my head, before turning and jumping.

“Damn it, Blaise,” I hissed, “Tell me when you’re awake next time.”

“It’s not like I can see you getting dressed,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“True,” I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest, “but you’re still a jerk,” I walked over, taking a seat next to him. I pulled my legs up, glancing at him, before biting down on my lip.

“I love you, Melody,” he chuckled, leaning his head against mine.

“I love you too, Blaise.”

I hoped that he didn’t remember anything about last night. I really did care for him, and when I was high weren’t the moments I wanted him to think about of me. I wanted him to smile at all the good things, not frown at all the sad.