I swear this is the last thing I'm doing for All Alone. But the story was missing this so here you go. Hope I did good and you'll like it.
I never thought I would find myself like this. Locked away in a room and huddled in the corner with a blade in my hands. It's not the worst you can get though. If you ask me it's the best really. Having a blade in your hand and blood trailing on your skin…It's the best feeling ever. It's the only thing that makes the pain go away. Because everything hurts and no one cares so I need this. I need my cuts and scars and blood.
The red blood looks so good against my pale skin. It always fascinated me. Ever since I made that first cut. It always fascinated me how good it looks. How natural. Prefect.
That first cut was so long ago though. I can't remember anymore. Everything is just a haze. A haze of blood. That's what the past few months are. Blood.
There are so many scares covering my skin now.
I started with my arms, but soon there was no more room left to cut. It became a cut over another in just a week. I guess I did go overboard that first month but no one cares so why would I. It felt so good though. I just couldn't stop. The blade feels so good in my hands and that moment when you slice into your skin and let the blood flow is like the best drug there is. So scared arms soon became scared legs, then my stomach was next and I haven't stopped since.
The cuts got deeper and deeper as more time passed and by the time Izzy found me she says it's bad. I don't see it. My scars aren't bad. There is nothing bad about them.
My eyes moved from the freshly made cut on my thigh, from which blood slowly trailed over the healed ones or the ones that almost are, looking at my forearm instead and the biggest cut that is almost healed there. It passed straight from my wrist to the inner side of my elbow. I barely remember making it, my head was such a mess at that moment. And the cut ended up sort of diagonal but it looks so perfect nonetheless.
It's my favorite too. The deepest one of them all. It would have been the last one too if Izzy didn't find me then. My finger passed over it at the thought, smudging fresh blood that was covering my hands when I did. It looked fascinating like this. The blood. The scars. They look so perfect while covered in blood. But then again everything always does.
Izzy says she doesn't like them. Any of my scars. But I don't see anything wrong. Every one of them is mine. I did them all and I'm proud of them. I can't even imagine hating them. I can't. Not when every one of them made everything hurt less for even a little bit. Not ever. How can someone hate something that makes them feel safe and makes everything hurt less.
I can forget about my parents when the blood flows. I can forget about the cuts and bruises my dad gave me. I can forget what a disappointment I am for even just a little while. I can forget. And forgetting has never felt so nice. To forget is something I need the most after all.
"Alec! Alec are you in there?" Izzy knocked on the door. It doesn't matter though. Nothing matters. I'm not worth it. She should just give up and leave. She will after a while. Everyone always does. I'm nothing after all. Nothing. Worthless. A disappointment.
Every word echoed in my head and it only brought another cut to my skin. More blood flowing down onto the floor where a nice small puddle was already forming. I could only hope it will get bigger as I sliced again. My hand worked in practiced familiar motion. I didn't even need to think about it as I just cut. One after another, making me forget. Making me feel so nice. Everything was so nice.
Not hearing a response from me Izzy started freaking out again and was trying to break the door now but I didn't care. I don't care. What's the point in caring anyway? Caring only gets you hurt. And nothing is real anyway. Nothing matters. I don't matter.
"Alec! Alec whatever your doing stop it! Please stop! Alec please!" She was hysterical now. Voice cracking slightly. Is she crying? Probably. She's been doing that a lot the past two weeks since she found me; I thought but still cut again. It felt too nice to stop. After two days of nothing this felt so nice. So so nice.
My head was lulling back and eyes got half lidded when the door finally gave in and opened with a sound of breaking, Izzy stumbling a bit before her eyes were on me and then she was running. Running to me and taking the blade away from my now weak fingers. My small puddle wasn't so small anymore.
She was crying when she pulled me into a hug. "You need to stop this. Please stop this. Please no more." I could feel that she was shaking when she begged and I couldn't help but brings my arms up, no matter how weak, and return the hug. I'm her big bother. I'm supposed to protect her. Not make her cry. Why am I so useless?
"No. I'm fine. I just hate to see you like this. But don't worry about me." Izzy pulled back and caught my hands in hers. Cleaning off the blood with her own shirt seeing as there was nothing else at hand, even as she continued crying. It was silent as she pulled me up and brought to the bathroom to really clean the cuts now that she could see them. I've lost a lot of blood and it made me tired but I'm always tired in every other way so physical tiredness is nothing. And we both knew that this isn't the worst blood loss I had so it's fine. I'm fine. Sadly I'm going to be fine. Izzy always makes sure of it.
But I'll find my way to a blade again. I will. I always do.
"Please promise." She sounded broken and tired but still asked like she always does. Every time she finds me she asks the same. "Please promise me you won't cut again." And I always answer the same.
"I promise." Because I always do. Every time. Even though we both know it's a lie. We both know I'll do it again the second I can but she still continues asking and I still continue promising.
We both know better. But she is desperate so I give her the hope she needs until she finds me covered in blood again. Because she will. I won't stop. I can't.
We both know better. But then again we don't.
She knows I'll do it again and she knows I'll hurt her again but she still continues trying, asking and crying. While I…I know the truth. I know she will get tired of the disappointment soon. Tired of me. She will leave because I won't stop. And then I will be able to continue cutting as I did. Always and all the time because it's the only way for me to stop feeling. Stop thinking.
I will continue cutting and she will continue trying. But she'll stop. She'll go and I'll be left alone again.
I know. Because they always do. Everyone always leaves.
But that's fine. I have my blades and I have my cuts. That's all I need.
That's all I'll ever need.
Did you like it? Tell me what you think.
I wanted to show how different Alec was back then. He loved his scars once and was even more broken then. Once before he was made to stop he couldn't even see himself being able to do it. I hope I managed to show that. Hope you liked this too. I tried.
Anyway please review my lovelies.