Perfection

(And you're just fallingfallingfalling, and there's no one to catch you when[if] you reach the ground)

They say I'm weird(I'mnotweirdjustdying). I wear the wrong things(blackonblackonblack), and I say the wrong things(helpmesavemeI'mdrowning), and I do the wrong things(hidemyscarshidehidehide). Maybe they're right(maybeI'mwrong).

My mother says I should come out of my room more. Why would I want to come out when I can stay inside andhidecuthide? So she sent me here. A boarding school. In England. Thousands away from what I know, where I feel safesafesafe(eventhoughIreallydon't).

I look up at the large house, looming in front of me, jeering at me. (You're not good enough, you'll never be good enough) Forcing my feet to walk up the steps, forcing my hand to knock on the door. My sleeve comes up a little, and I shove it back down(neverletthemseehowweakyoureallyare).

A woman answers the door, someone with a bright smile and brown dimples and a warm, kind expression. I shrink back into my hooded sweatshirt. (itallbeganwithsmiles) " Oh, you must be the new student! I'm Trudy Rehmann, your house mother."

Behind her is a man, staring(glaring) at me(through me). " And I am Victor Rodemarr, the house caretaker." I listen to him say something about an attic(atticsaredustyandforgottenlikeyou) and a cellar, and some rules. But all I really want to know is where the bathrooms are. I haven't cut since I got off the plane, and the urge is gnawing at me, eating me, destroying me. (scarsareweakness,neverletthemseeweakness)

Finally he stops talking, and the woman(Trudy) leads me up the stairs, and to a room. She says it's mine(not all mine, I have roommates), but I can't see how something this colorful could ever be mine(one-third mine). One side is pink and beautiful and gorgeous, and the other side is a bit more understated, but still just as wonderful.

Back home(not home, hell), it was always blackonblackonblack(with splashes of red). No pictures of friends(whoneedsfriendswhenyou'vegotblades?), no pictures of family(theydon'tcaretheynevercared), no pictures of pets or stuffed animals or trips to the zoo(andnowit'stoolate).

Here, there's everything I never had, and more, in this room alone, and it's toomuch. I wait until Trudy stops talking, and ask where the bathrooms are. She shows me to them, then leaves me, saying, " It will be time for dinner soon, I need to go finish cooking," and leaves, bustling back down the stairs. (everyoneleavessoonerorlater)

I lock the door, and wiggle the handle just in case; it doesn't turn, and I am safe(notreally). I retrieve a clear plastic bag from my purse and pull out one of the bloodstained blades. Once meant for a lifetime sharpening pencils, now repurposed to serve my shallow needs. (you are weak, you don't matter, no one cares)

Slice. Slice. Slice. I slide the small piece of metal over my upper arm three times, watching as the blood slowly trickles from the cuts into the sink. I clean up using a baby wipe from a box in my purse and water from the sink. After I pull down my sleeve, there is no evidence of what just took place except the fresh scars, now hidden.(Now, isn't that better?)

Then I head back to the room with the colors and pictures and life(everythingyoudon'thave). I fold my clothes, all long-sleeved tees and hoodies and sweatshirts that are baggy and blackonblackonblack, just like everything else I own. They go in the drawer in the corner of the room, next to the bed and empty space.

I fold my thoughts the same way, putting them away neatly in the drawers of my mind and locking them up tight in preparation of the meeting with my new housemates(torturers, I'm tourtured).

When I'm done, I sit on my bed and curl up in a ball, staring off into space until my moment of solitude(mental beration) is interrupted by a loud chattering downstairs. I catch snippets of conversation: " -So, she was like, ' Yeah, so what?'..." " –toria Beckham is…" " –Soo hungry…".

I don't come downstairs, but I hear voices and footsteps coming up. A blonde girl enters the room(pretty;notlikeyou), followed by a dirty blonde and a brown haired boy. The boy and dirty blonde notice me first, and tap the blonde on the shoulder. They stare. I stare back.

I know they're judging me; I don't blame them. I'm not pretty. I have blue eyes that look dead(liketherestofme), stick straight blackonblackonblack hair, and a small, petite figure that makes it easy to hidehidehide. I shake my hair over my face, hiding behind it, and turn away. I am about to speak.

" I suppose you are wondering who I am." I begin, watching(gauging) their reactions out of the corner of my eye. Shock, surprise, confusion.

" I wonder that myself. I did have a name, once, but it was not suited to me, so I changed it. Now they call me Deidre, sadness, sorrow, among other names. You may call me these as well.

" You are also wondering why I am here. I was sent to this school for…certain reasons I needn't broach at this time. I ended up here, in this house, in this room, and here we are.

" And as to what I'm like… no one needs to know. My alias should give enough clues. I have told enough. Goodbye." I turned towards the wall and curled back up, returning to my previous task. (Hated, unloved, nothingnothingnothing…)

" I'm Amber, he's Fabian, and she's Nina. It's nice to meet you!", the blonde(Amber) said to my back. But before she could say more, a call from downstairs cut her off. " Dinner!"

They start to walk out of the room, but pause at the door when they realize I'm not behind them. " Aren't you hungry?"(theydon'tcarenoonecares)

I shake my head, but they persist. " You have to eat. Plus I'm sure everyone else wants to meet you!"(worthlessgood-for-nothing)

I can tell this tug of war can go on all night, and I stand up, hair still covering my face. Shuffling along behind them, I follow them to a room filled with people eating, talking, and laughing(noisenoisenoise). The sound fades away as each person looks up and notices me.(notworthit)

" This is Deirdre…something, and she's a new student!" Amber says brightly. " Hi Deirdre," they chorus, then go back to their conversations and happiness(whatis"happiness")

I am led to a seat just next to the table, and sit down. I stare at the plate of food in front of me: spaghetti and meatballs. I pick up my fork, then set it down again.(fatskinnyuglyfreak)

" Hey, aren't you going to eat?" a girl asks. She is in blackonpurpleonblack. I shake my head in reply. " Why not?"

Before I can answer, a meatball flies across the table and hits a boy with brown skin. At the other side, a boy with a mischievous expression and blonde hair smirks and opens his mouth to speak; he is abruptly cut off by another meatball that misses its target and hits the girl next to me(blackonpurpleonblack).

Suddenly food is flying everywhere, and the food turns to missiles and bombs and bullets, and I havehavehave to escape, and I run towards the door, but am struck in the back.(you'regoingtodie)

I clutch the doorframe for a moment, then run upstairs, to the bathroom. Behind me, I hear the cries and cheers and yells as people are hit; they don't notice I am gone(toofargone).

I make my way to the bathroom and lock the door. Slice. Slice. Wipe. Rinse. When I am done(donewithitall), I walk out and go to the room.(wasteofspacetimeenergy)

Curled up on my bed, I feel safe(notsafescaredscaredscared). I bury myself under masses of blankets, creating a suffocating(chokingdrowning) burrow where I can hide from the world(butnotmyself).

A little while later, the girls from earlier come in. They don't notice me cocooned in blankets(whywouldtheyyou'reworthless), and chat and talk and laugh(allthethingsyouusedtodo).

Then I realize I am not as unnoticed as I thought, for they are speaking to me now. " Hey, are you okay? You ran out of there pretty fast." The dir- Nina says.

" I'm fine," I reply, and repeat the word softly, calling up its brother and sister words. (fine, okay, good, alright.) Maybe I can trick myself into believing my own lies.(or maybe that's the biggest lie of all)

" Hmm?" Nina asks, and I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head. " Nothing."(lieslieslies)

Eventually they settle down to sleep, after many questions thrown to each other and me("What's your favorite color?" "Red."[thecolorofblood]).

And my sleep is filled with tears, and nightmares, and negativity. (notgoodenough)(worthless)(broken)(saveme)

(fallingfallingfalling)