My Only One

Jaime's POV

I didn't know how long I'd been walking, and I knew I'd made a wrong turn somehow because I was no where near home, but I did know that I honestly felt numb. Whether it was the blisteringly cold, Autumn eve wind or the fact I was so utterly defeated in that moment, I didn't know. 

I walked to fight the urge. That one particular plaguing urge that was haunting me now with each step, pointing out every sharp object around me, taunting me with the release that would come with it. 

Subconsciously nibbling at my lip, I glanced down at my arm and pulled back the sleeve, sighing at the now white scars. I'd been clean for at least eight months now, but the urge was still there. It'd always be there.

Give in.

I grimaced, viciously shaking my head as if trying to make it go away.

Just do it.

I tried to walk faster, hoping to leave my thoughts behind with the passed ground.

You're not strong enough.

Tears stung my eyes as they found a sharp rock on the ground. I gasped and began running, running from everything. I needed to get away. But I couldn't escape my own mind.

Let it go. You need this.

I saw a familiar road, and sprinted down it.

You want this. It'll make things so much easier. Think of the relief. Think of the pleasure.

"No." I whispered to myself, tears flowing freely now as I saw my house in the distance.

Come on. Give it up. You're not better than this. You're nothing. Even your boyfriend agrees.

My lungs screamed for air but I couldn't stop. I needed to make the thoughts stop.

You do like Vic. You practically are cheating. You're worthless. Tony hates you. Your parents hate you. You have no friends. You have nothing.

I reached the house, swinging the door open and climbing the staircase, running to my room.

Do it. Give in. You know you need it.

Reaching my room, I slammed the door and slid down it until I dropped to the floor, my body racking with sobs. "I d-don't need this." I choked out, barely whispering as I composed myself enough to half-crawl to my nightstand, shaky hands searching for a small box. 

My hand searched its contents for it, it being the thing that I hadn't dared to touch in months. The sick reminder of who I was, and now, who I still was.

The cold metal graced my fingers and I whimpered, picking it out of the box before lifting up my sleeve, a single sob making its way out my mouth as I viewed the scars.

They were so old. So unnoticeable to the naked eye, or a stranger passing by. Even an unobservitive close friend.

The metal touched my arm as I pushed it as deep as I could into my arm, dragging it raggedly and hissing in pain. Blood ran from the cut as I whimpered in release. It was sick how comfortably familiar it was. It was sick how happy and relieved I felt.

I looked down at the silver blade in my hand, sighing. I was going to do this. I was going to give in and-

"Jaime," My mother's voice which was right outside my room startled me out of my trance. "I'm home. I brought home dinner too so hurry down." 

I didn't dare speak, for I didn't trust my voice. Mumbling in response, I inwardly cursed and placed the blade on my nightstand with care and shaky hands. Another day clean. I tried to be proud of myself.

Exhaling deeply, I pulled my sleeve down and stumbled down the steps, checking my phone. I'd gotten a text from Tony. My stomach churned as I opened it.

New message from: Tone-Bone<3

-We need to talk-

My eyes widened. "No..." I breathed, for I knew exactly what that meant.

Break-up.

Fresh tears stung my eyes as I wracked my brain for something. Anything.

Then it hit me.

I needed to talk to Vic.

New message to: Vic

-can we talk? I really need someone right now please Vic-