Just Walk Away
Next few months
I loved how he never realized what he did to me. I love how he continues to do it to this day. I snapped the rubber band on my scarred wrist. “Tsk tsk tsks thinking of him again aren’t we? No dinner tonight that means…” The own voice in my head trailed off as I swallowed back a gallon of tears. Getting annoyed with myself was a bad thing. When I started to cry I knew I was even worse, but sure enough I start crying. To refrain from thinking about him, I bit my hand hard. I ground my teeth into the flesh of my skin. The skin broke and I tasted blood but that only made me bite harder. I needed to get over him. I needed to move on.
Soon after I fell asleep, and slept yet again till morning, I was up long enough to go to school, do homework and go to rehearsal and tae kwon doe. I slept through most if not all of my classes some days, and I was always getting called to the office. I got really sick of seeing all the delinquents in there on either side of me cracking jokes. I didn’t show up at lunch a lot, and any class had with him I would go into another room. I avoided him like the plague and everything he did hurt me more and more.
A few days later I saw him with this other girl he told me he liked making out and then after holding hands. I had no idea they were dating, and it was the first time I would have been returning to my normal group of so called friends at lunch. I lost it and my best friend caught me by the arm I tripped then fell drawing far too much attention. Now I had his eyes on me too and with that I passed out.
I was pissed when I woke up and saw him over me I reached over and snapped the rubber band. I snapped it till my wrist bled a bit and until he noticed. He tried to speak, I tried to move, I ended up winning that one no matter how slow I was. I ran off to my next class and sat there razor in hand drawing a picture subtly on the underside of my wrist. He came into the classroom and sat next to me I started crying and pressed too hard, I wouldn’t stop bleeding. I swore mentally, but throughout the day and the next the only time I would speak of my own will was play rehearsal. I didn’t text anymore. I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t pick up the phone and people mostly started giving up.
I was sent to the hospital a few weeks later. I stayed there, I stopped eating, and I never spoke until my parents visited and I cried. They tried isolation, but I just slept. They tried meds, and they had no effect. I started sign spelling to everyone. I made myself forget how to speak. I didn’t want to remember. I was relocated to a different hospital. It was a long term one, and we received better treatment so I ate, but I still didn’t speak but I explained to the therapist there. It hurts. She signed back confused “where?” I pointed at my heart then at my eyes then at my wrist and signed and everywhere else I never wanted to be touched, I started crying and because I had been doing my schoolwork while there I was released back to school, but I needed a translator, I was defined as mute, and I pretty much shut down. I carried a notebook a refillable one for conversations, and I had my understudy fill me in on my blocking, because lines and monologues were the only thing I said. I slowly started talking again. Like a child I started slowly, I had stopped talking for almost the previous three months and I forgot what it was like. I made my mother cry as I help out my wrist, my body skin and bones. I took pills for everything, and I wasn’t allowed to be alone. One day shortly after I started talking and texting, I wrote him a letter, the man that nearly murdered me. It said this:
“I was gone because of you, I hope you know you almost killed me. There was a time when I would do anything for you, where you were my world. That time is over. There is only so much I can take. I still love you though. In all honestly Love Never Dies. I see how much you loved everyone else. I’m done”
And I kissed the seal of the envelope. And weeks after, I still hadn’t returned. The voice came over on the loud speaker announcing what happened and what date. He looked on his letter which he always kept on him, and sure enough, it said clear as day the day on my headstone. March 31. And sure enough he broke down and cried. I had always told him I would do anything for him.
Soon after I fell asleep, and slept yet again till morning, I was up long enough to go to school, do homework and go to rehearsal and tae kwon doe. I slept through most if not all of my classes some days, and I was always getting called to the office. I got really sick of seeing all the delinquents in there on either side of me cracking jokes. I didn’t show up at lunch a lot, and any class had with him I would go into another room. I avoided him like the plague and everything he did hurt me more and more.
A few days later I saw him with this other girl he told me he liked making out and then after holding hands. I had no idea they were dating, and it was the first time I would have been returning to my normal group of so called friends at lunch. I lost it and my best friend caught me by the arm I tripped then fell drawing far too much attention. Now I had his eyes on me too and with that I passed out.
I was pissed when I woke up and saw him over me I reached over and snapped the rubber band. I snapped it till my wrist bled a bit and until he noticed. He tried to speak, I tried to move, I ended up winning that one no matter how slow I was. I ran off to my next class and sat there razor in hand drawing a picture subtly on the underside of my wrist. He came into the classroom and sat next to me I started crying and pressed too hard, I wouldn’t stop bleeding. I swore mentally, but throughout the day and the next the only time I would speak of my own will was play rehearsal. I didn’t text anymore. I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t pick up the phone and people mostly started giving up.
I was sent to the hospital a few weeks later. I stayed there, I stopped eating, and I never spoke until my parents visited and I cried. They tried isolation, but I just slept. They tried meds, and they had no effect. I started sign spelling to everyone. I made myself forget how to speak. I didn’t want to remember. I was relocated to a different hospital. It was a long term one, and we received better treatment so I ate, but I still didn’t speak but I explained to the therapist there. It hurts. She signed back confused “where?” I pointed at my heart then at my eyes then at my wrist and signed and everywhere else I never wanted to be touched, I started crying and because I had been doing my schoolwork while there I was released back to school, but I needed a translator, I was defined as mute, and I pretty much shut down. I carried a notebook a refillable one for conversations, and I had my understudy fill me in on my blocking, because lines and monologues were the only thing I said. I slowly started talking again. Like a child I started slowly, I had stopped talking for almost the previous three months and I forgot what it was like. I made my mother cry as I help out my wrist, my body skin and bones. I took pills for everything, and I wasn’t allowed to be alone. One day shortly after I started talking and texting, I wrote him a letter, the man that nearly murdered me. It said this:
“I was gone because of you, I hope you know you almost killed me. There was a time when I would do anything for you, where you were my world. That time is over. There is only so much I can take. I still love you though. In all honestly Love Never Dies. I see how much you loved everyone else. I’m done”
And I kissed the seal of the envelope. And weeks after, I still hadn’t returned. The voice came over on the loud speaker announcing what happened and what date. He looked on his letter which he always kept on him, and sure enough, it said clear as day the day on my headstone. March 31. And sure enough he broke down and cried. I had always told him I would do anything for him.