Atelophobia

"A Million Different Ways"

Ahhhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhhh

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhhhh

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

We both know.

We shouldn't be so close,

but you're talking dirty.

it's two-thirty in the morning.

So come baby lets go.

I wanna know what's up.

and then I hold you slowly.

in lesser clothing we count up.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhh

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhhhhh

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh...

We both know

You're cancer to my throat

You've got one-hundred different ways to say no,

But you go and you go (AHHHHHhhhhhhhh)

Sellin your soul.

C-c-c-come on

You said

"baby hold me slowly"

"Oh just keep going"

"Oh you just met me"

"God you're amazing"

We're alike

in a million

different ways

And you're the only fuck

I ever gave.

Then you went,

and you threw it all away.

I guess I'd say,

that was the best day

Cause you're the rope

that's been hangin on to me.

I thank the breeze

for lettin' me know

You cheat.

I woke up with tears in my eyes, wondering what I had been dreaming about to make me so emotional. I quickly realized what song had been playing and switched off my stereo. Joel Faviere is one of my favorite musicians, as well as many others, but there's something about his music that really hits me. It might have something to do with the fact that he was my ex's favorite artist as well as mine and had a lot of his songs dedicated to me.

Tears were spilling down my cheeks. I had no idea why, honestly. I was just in one of those moods to let everything out and sob until your chest ached and you could no longer breathe.

"Jenna, dinner is ready." My mother said, knocking at my door. Wiping away the last of my tears, I stood up and glanced into the mirror, wiping away my smeared makeup and trying to tame my hair into a pony-tail. I stared at my thighs, stomach, face, arms, legs, shoulders, everything. They were so.. big.

"I'm coming mum." I yelled back, hearing her footsteps walk down he hallway. Flicking off my light, I closed my door behind me and walked down the hallway to the dinning room where there was a roast, mashed potato's, and broccoli. Suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore. I didn't want the calories. I ate way too many today anyways.

"Actually, I'm not feeling it tonight. I think I'm getting sick." I said quietly, trying to not let my father hear me. He always made fun of me, and even if he was joking, it hurt. I'm pathetically weak, I can't even handle someone joking about my weight without running out of the room crying.

"What's the matter sport, trying to lose some weight finally?" He asked, followed with a laugh.

"No dad, I'm just not feeling hungry. I'll eat some later, okay?" His smile faded.

Stalking back to my room, I was stopped by my three year old brother grabbing my hand from behind.

"Sissy you come eat with us?" I nodded my head no and smiled softly at him.

"No Bubby, sissy isn't hungry. Go on." I told him. Watching him run back to the dining room and get in my seat to eat his dinner.

Closing the door and locking it behind me, I went over to my bookshelf and pulled out my copy of "Harry Potter: Order of the Phoenix" and opened it to page 666. Laying there in between the bounds of the pages was a small, double sided, silver thin blade. Carefully, I pulled it from it's home and walked over to my bed, not taking my eyes off of it for even a split second.

I pulled down my shorts to my knees and looked at the scars from past break downs. It's been months since I've self harmed. I've been doing so good, and everyone thinks I've gotten better, but it's only the beginning of my road to recovery.

Without thinking, I sliced open my thigh for the first time in what seems like years and let the crimson liquids spill from my leg.

Again.

& Again.

& Again.

It seems like hours later until I finally stop, and grab my tissues from my dresser. Dabbing away the drips of blood from the sides of my legs, I wet a towel to scrub off the dried blood.

After a few seconds of rubbing it started to sting badly, and I bit my lip to keep from letting out a screech, putting pressure on my cuts to keep the blood from gushing back out again. Getting on my knees, I pulled out a first aid kit from underneath my bed and pulled out some gauze pads and an ace bandage wrap. I applied some anti-infectant cream and layed on the gauze pad gently and then unrolled the wrap. Starting on the right side of the wounds I layed it on my leg and held it there, wrapping the rest around my thigh several times before clipping it on tight. I did the same to my other leg and the slid on gym shorts to hide them.

Grabbing all the bloody tissues and napkins, I slid them in my pocket and walked across the hallway to the bathroom to flush them down the toilet. I never leave any evidence of self harm, or. At least I try to leave as little bit as possible.

Hearing a knock at the door, I walked over and clicked over the lock, opening the walkway and seeing my brother, Lincoln, standing in the doorway.

"Sissy, are you okay?" He asked, as innocent as could be.

"I'm just fantabulous!" I exclaimed, and started to tickle his underarms. He giggled and turned around, running down the hallway. I let him run and walked back to my bedroom to check my phone. No new messages, figures. Lighting a candle, I turned on my depressed playlist and turned on my Christmas lights. I slid off my shorts and put on my favorite red Ohio State hoodie, and crawled into bed. I looked at the clock. 9:58PM. I just realized that today is Sunday, and tomorrow, is my first back at high school.

This was gonna be hell.