Crown of Scars
Author's Note: This is just an idea that's been in my head for the past few days and I decided to write it down. This is a one-shot. I think it's really dark and a little short with a sad ending, but I really hope everyone likes it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sonny With A Chance.
Forget about the fight to wear the crown of scars
Cause you've already won
Forget the pain and leave the tears behind you
Bury underneath your feet the remains
Of what's been left behind
Cause you have got a long
Long way to run
She rested her temple gently against the window in her bedroom, gazing silently through it. She had been standing there for hours with her arms, just staring out at the steady rain and the dark, somber sky. She smiled just a little bit, realizing that the current weather in Los Angeles was a visual respresntation of exactly what it would look like if one had the ability to see into her soul. She brushed her silky bangs out of her face absently before bringing her arm to rest back down at her side. She kept her attention focused on the rainy scene just on the other side of the glass as she blinked a few stray tears out of her eyes.
She was sure she looked like a mess. She had been crying all afternoon and hadn't gotten a good nights sleep in a week. Sighing heavily, she finally turned away from the window, her chocolate eyes dark and hollow, slightly glazed over with all of the crying that she had already done. Despite what she called herself, she was positive that she had not been very sunny in quite a long time.
Folding her arms across her chest loosely, she pushed herself off of the window pane and walked over to her bed slowly, feeling as numb as ever. The corners of her rosy lips turned up again into another meager smile, picking up the object up off of her mattress that she had snuck out of the kitchen and into her bedroom while her mother was still getting ready for work. She held it carefully by its handle and held it close to her body, staring down at it and watching its blade gleam with what little light there was in her room.
She tilted in back and forth many times, feeling a strong attraction to it. It was almost as if it were seducing her, causing her to remember all of those times she had used it before in secrecy and gotten away with it, even after he had forced her to promise not to hurt herself again. She let out a slow breath, frowning slightly. She sshook her head, realizing you were stupid to promise him anything. He never cared about you and you loathed yourself for not knowing that before you allowed yourself to fall in love with him.
So far, her plan had been going off without a hitch, although she had been battling having second thoughts about executing it all day. Yesterday, she was positive that this was what she wanted, but today, she wasn't so sure. The one thing that she was the most concerned about was how badly this was going to hurt her mother, having to come home from a long day at work, expecting everything to be perfectly normal. Despite this, she was going to have to come home to her only child dead in her bedroom.
She wiped at her cheeks quickly in order to get rid of any extra tears and thought only for a moment of going back into the kitchen and stuffing the bread knife back into the drawer where it belonged. She was ready to forget about this whole plan of hers. She bit down on her bottom lip, coming this close to chickening out before she was able to stop herself. She shook her head again, trying to clear her mind of all the doubts that she was having and tightened her grasp on the handle.
You're doing this.
She told herself silently, reminding herself for the third time that day of her reasoning behind wanting to take her own life. She stopped thinking about her mother, this time remembering why she was not together with him in the first place. She reminded herself of the day that she had discovered that he had been cheating on her.
All of the lies that he had told her that she was foolish enough to believe. She remembered all of the times that he had hurt her. He had betrayed her trust and all she could think about was wanting punish him for it. She was done being manipulated. She was done with doing everything that he wanted her to do. Finally, she was beginning to make her own decisions again. This was what she wanted and she was going to go through with it. She didn't care if he understood why she did this or not. He didn't matter to her at all anymore.
Nothing would matter in a few minutes because she was leaving it all behind.
She realized now how immensely naïve she had been, feeding into every single one of his lies. She had stupidly allowed herself to fall so in love with him that she never even suspected the fact that he was just using her for the longest time. She knew she must have been delirious to believe that he could have ever been able to love somebody like her back. If he did in fact love her, he wouldn't have lied to her just to take advantage.
She sniffled quietly, placing a hand briefly over her lower abdomen. Within moments, more tears formed in her eyes and slid down her flushed cheeks. She had never hated anyone more than she did him, but still, a small part of her wished that they were still together. She was so happy when she was with him and she desperately craved the ability to feel that way again. She hadn't been able to feel even the slightest bit of joy since she broke up with him.
Now, he was still just as happy as she remembered, but now he had a new girlfriend and she had been stuck feeling miserable for two months. Tears burned her ebony eyes as she thought about the tiny life that was growing inside her that she had only just found out existed three days ago.
She realized she was about to do something very selfish. She was about to take away any chance at a life her child had. Still, she knew that she was in no way prepared for motherhood. She wouldn't be able to take care of a baby when she was barely able to take care of herself. She was still so young, only seventeen years old, and she knew that it also wouldn't be very fair to the child if you brought it into a world where its mother didn't have the means to raise it and its father wanted nothing to do with it.
She kept the news of her pregnancy to herself. It was a secret that only she knew about and she was determined to keep it that way. She knew that if she had told her mother, she would be greatly shocked and disappointed in her, but also try to convince her to keep the baby. She would try to convince her not to hurt herself for the sake of her unborn child, and that wasn't what she wanted. What she wanted was to die. She had already made up her mind and she wasn't going to let anybody change it. She refused to tell him that he was going to be a father for the exact same reason. She didn't want him to be able to use the knowledge of the baby's life to manipulate her.
I'm really sorry.
She whispered, looking down sadly at her stomach, stroking it gently.
After a minute, she was able to regain her composure. She realized that if she was going to go through with her plan, she was going to have to do it now. Her mother was not going to be home from work for at least another hour or so, which was the perfect window of time. She had nothing to do that day and she was not expecting anyone, so she knew that there was no chance of being interrupted. She also knew that she would not be discovered until it was too late.
Sighing lightly, she turned around, settling herself gracefully on the edge of the mattress. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat, she set the knife back down on the blanket for a moment pushed the dark sleeve of her shirt up her left arm to her elbow to expose the milky, white skin underneath. She studied it quietly, the faint scars from deep gashes that had healed over weeks ago ran like ugly train tracks over her skin. Blinking back a new set of tears, she traced her fingers lightly over the large faded letters of his name that were permanently engraved over the veins in her wrist. Reaching across her body and picking the knife up again with her right hand, she immediately rested the oversized blade to her skin.
Hesitating for only a moment, she pressed down as hard as she could, carving into her forearm once again. She loosened her grip for a second, moving the knife up a few inches from the fresh wound before slicing again, this time even harder than before. She had no idea how deep she was actually cutting; she couldn't feel any pain, but soon her arm was covered in cherry blood that soon spread to her shirt, jeans, and all over her blanket. She had counted up to the fourth cut and tried not to panic when her vision began to blur and, soon after that, darken. Her head felt cloudy and she dropped the knife.
It slipped easily from her weakened grasp and fell to the floor, disappearing underneath her bed. She did not have the energy to try and find it again, falling back against her pillows when she felt an acute wave of nausea wash over her. She shut her eyes tightly, beginning to feel even dizzier. She wondered curiously to herself how much blood she lost already. She knew that she must have lost a significant amount by the way she was feeling so numb.
All the pain was gone; she knew that she must be getting close. She knew she was slipping away. She felt lighter, unable to feel or move any part of her body. She made sure she kept her eyes shut, a tiny smile, satisfied playing on her lips. A moment later, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep, knowing that she would finally be okay now.
Finally, nothing would be able to hurt her.
She would be at peace.
Author's Note: Opinions?
