I was broken. Broken and alone. I didn't think there was anyone else out there like me. My dad is in the army and went to Afghanistan awhile back for a peace-keeping mission and my mom was an Alcoholic; actually she still is. I was left to take care of her. To clean up after her, puke and all. No one understood what I was going through. It was my secret. And I hid it well, maybe too well. This is why I began to cut myself. What started out as a simple cut turned into my own addiction. I was becoming no different than the very person I despised and yet I couldn't stop: even when Paige found out, even when my mom set the house on fire, even after I moved in with Sean. Nobody and nothing could stop me. Then I met him. He was just as alone and broken as me. His name? KC Guthrie.
His life was just as messed up as mine. While my mom was away at rehab and I was couch surfing with friends, he was living in a group home because his mom was in jail for both selling and using drugs. In fact, he told me stories where she would lock him in the closet so she could get her fix. Also, while my dad was half a world away, at least I knew who he was. KC's dad left as soon as he found out his mom was pregnant.
When I showed him my scars and he didn't freak out like everyone else had. Instead, he ran his fingers over them and told me that they were reminders of the battle I fought; my own badges of courage. I smiled at this thought. He then told me how he ended up in the group home. Turns out he and a couple of his friends stole a car when he was 14 and took it out for a spin.
After sharing our stories, the two of us made a promise. I would stop cutting and he would stay out of trouble. In addition, we would always be there for one another. So far we're both doing a pretty good job with keeping that promise.