Damned to the Broken

He couldn’t get her tear stained face out of his head. He could hear her begging him to stay over the music he was currently blasting. But he couldn’t stay. One girl at the park wasn’t going to change his mind.

Blood was already running down his forearms and pooling in his palms and dripping on to the tile floor of the bathroom.

Intricate was the word to describe the sight in front of him. His bright red blood in contrast with his pale skin and white bathroom. The pink lines and streams of blood brought life and color to his arms. One would almost call it beautiful if it had not been in this context.

The newest cuts had not been deep enough to cause worry to him. They were something he could easily patch up in a matter of 5 minutes. But that was the point, slowly letting all his pain and regret pour from him so in his last moments he would feel cleansed. He had planned it that if one of them were to clot, he would simply re open it, cutting it a little deeper than before.

“Kaylee Anne.” Her named slipped through his lips without even a second thought. Why did she tell him her middle name? Or did she have two first names? He wondered how often she had to dye her hair in order to keep it as red as it was. Stupid really. Here he finds himself slowly bleeding out, wondering about this girl he had briefly met at the local park.

“Promise, yeah?” He could hear her voice again, begging for him to show up at the park tomorrow. He imagined her sitting in the park, well before noon waiting for him. As the clock would tick she would get more and more nervous if he was going to show up. She would probably stay for at least an hour part noon, silently hoping that he would show up and ease her mind.

Then it clicked. Somewhere inside of him, he didn’t want to upset her. He didn’t want to imagine Kaylee Anne silently crying in the park over him.

Quickly he stood up. But he found himself putting his head between his knees as his vision went black, a head rush amplified by his loss of blood. It seemed like 20 minutes went by waiting for his vision to return, even though it had only been a few minutes. Slowly he stood up using the wall for support.

He was shaking. Desperate and scared now. He couldn’t let Kaylee Anne down. He quickly found his bandages and rubbing alcohol. The sting of the alcohol almost brought a smile to his lips, a subtle reminder he was still alive.

Wrapping the bandages around his wrist tightly then raised them as high as he could hold at this point, preventing as much blood as he could from leaving his body.

A chuckling escaped him. Here he was stopping this plan that he has had for months, for a girl he had just met at the park. For the first time in years someone showed that they might actually care about him and he didn’t want to throw that away.

Finally after regaining his strength he looked around the white bathroom. It was easy to see all the blood that he had lost, most of it decorated the sink, a few drips were on the floor. Slowly with the help of rubbing alcohol the bathroom was rid of his blood.

The entire time he was cleaning Kaylee Anne was running though his mind. To be honest she hasn’t left his mind since she had asked him to meet her noon tomorrow. He would have to wear long sleeves in order to hide the new scars and bandages.

Guilt washed through him, he knew that if she had found out his plans she would be upset. Maybe upset enough to remove herself from his life. He could only imagine what that would do to him. His only hope gone because he had planned on killing himself, and was still contemplating finishing it off.

Going to his bedroom Bryson finally fell onto his bed, exhausted from the events of today. Looking at this clock, it read 12:43 AM. He had officially pushed back his suicide date.