My Fatal Savior
My Fatal Savior
Put the headphones in your ears. Turn on the music, something angsty. Get the razor out. Set it down. Think of why exactly you’re doing it again. Reach for the razor, and finally…
The bell startled me out of my fantasy. After I’d received that form of extreme humiliation to myself, my grade virtually being told to the class (it being much worse due to the fact of my attending a prep school), I’d put my books away and not even bothered to perform petty little tasks for him. I’m bad at them anyways, right? That’s why I’m failing?
I grabbed my packed messenger bag and stumbled out of the classroom in a sleepy stupor before putting my old algebra book away. I don’t even see why I’m required to take that class. Anyways, I shouldn’t be late and get more detentions, so I reached for an English text and headed down to art class.
They shouldn’t trust kids with exacto knives. Especially not kids who dress in black and listen to “emo music.” But here’s at least ten lying out, without a sign out sheet or anything. I pulled earbuds out of my shirt and headed for the storage room, a knife fitting perfectly into the pocket of my skirt.
Once I was inside, I went to the furthest part of one end. Then I underwent my nearly ritualistic ceremony, paying homage to my Fatal Savior.
Put the headphones in your ears. Turn on the music, something angsty. Get the razor out. Set it down. Think of why exactly you’re doing it again. Reach for the razor…
I took the blade in my hand, 30 Seconds to Mars’ song “Savior” playing in my ears. I proceeded to hold it so very, very close to my wrist… tension building, so thick you could cut it… with a knife…
So I finally broke the tension by slicing until I saw red liquid. My normal flurry of reactions hit me. I was repulsed, saved, but most of all transfixed by the flow of my body’s life force slowly leaving it’s living, beating container… So transfixed, I didn’t even notice someone walk into the room.
My reasoning? “I just want to know I can do something right.”
The lyrics playing when I made the cut? “Don’t save me, ‘cause I don’t care.”
The bell startled me out of my fantasy. After I’d received that form of extreme humiliation to myself, my grade virtually being told to the class (it being much worse due to the fact of my attending a prep school), I’d put my books away and not even bothered to perform petty little tasks for him. I’m bad at them anyways, right? That’s why I’m failing?
I grabbed my packed messenger bag and stumbled out of the classroom in a sleepy stupor before putting my old algebra book away. I don’t even see why I’m required to take that class. Anyways, I shouldn’t be late and get more detentions, so I reached for an English text and headed down to art class.
They shouldn’t trust kids with exacto knives. Especially not kids who dress in black and listen to “emo music.” But here’s at least ten lying out, without a sign out sheet or anything. I pulled earbuds out of my shirt and headed for the storage room, a knife fitting perfectly into the pocket of my skirt.
Once I was inside, I went to the furthest part of one end. Then I underwent my nearly ritualistic ceremony, paying homage to my Fatal Savior.
Put the headphones in your ears. Turn on the music, something angsty. Get the razor out. Set it down. Think of why exactly you’re doing it again. Reach for the razor…
I took the blade in my hand, 30 Seconds to Mars’ song “Savior” playing in my ears. I proceeded to hold it so very, very close to my wrist… tension building, so thick you could cut it… with a knife…
So I finally broke the tension by slicing until I saw red liquid. My normal flurry of reactions hit me. I was repulsed, saved, but most of all transfixed by the flow of my body’s life force slowly leaving it’s living, beating container… So transfixed, I didn’t even notice someone walk into the room.
My reasoning? “I just want to know I can do something right.”
The lyrics playing when I made the cut? “Don’t save me, ‘cause I don’t care.”