Jane Smecker opened her eyes, letting out a groan as she thought back over the events of the previous few days. She should be proud of herself, should be feeling more free than she had in years, yet she couldn't shake the sadness she felt. She had allowed herself to grow a backbone over the past several days and finally stood up to her long time boyfriend, Michael.
For two years, Michael had "encouraged" Jane to do things the way he thought she should do them. He had planned out what she would do with her life, what she would eat, who she would be friends with, where she would go, and even what she would believe. He never let her voice her own opinions unless they mimicked his own.
A few weeks ago, it had been like a switch had been thrown in Jane's brain. She had slowly started noticing the way things were with Michael. The blinders were taken off of her eyes, and she had started thinking for herself. It had taken her a few weeks to feel as if she was strong enough, but three days before, she had done it. She had given Michael back the engagement ring he had given her and was finally standing on her own.
Jane shook her head, taking a deep breath. She had dreamed of her mother, Marie, and that was never a good thing. She had not had a good dream when her mom was a part of it since Marie had died three years before. Now, as she sat in bed, trying to shake off the vestiges of the dream, she was shaky and disoriented.
Jane slowly got out of bed, dragging herself into the bathroom to wash her face. She made a face in the mirror as her pale reflection stared back at her. She noticed vaguely that her pajamas were hanging a little looser on her already thin frame and tried to remember when she had last eaten. She couldn't. She shrugged her shoulders and reached for her toothbrush to brush her teeth.
Jane pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and then moved back into her bedroom to get dressed. She pulled on a pair of black jeans with a black tank top, part of her wondering why she was bothering when she had no plans to go anywhere. She sighed, making the decision to clean up her apartment even though it was already pretty clean.
Jane's stomach rumbled, but she ignored it as she moved through the apartment and straightened up the few things that were out of place. She pulled out the vacuum cleaner and vacuumed the floors and then went into the kitchen to wash the dishes, even though there were only a couple of glasses. She grabbed a bottle of water and went into the living room, sinking onto the couch and propping her feet up on her coffee table. She glanced at her phone as it rang, recognizing Michael's number and making no move to answer it. She didn't want to talk to him, worried that she wouldn't have the strength she needed to stick to her decision to leave him.
Jane grabbed the remote control, turning the television set on and flipping through the channels. She dropped her feet from the coffee table, sitting up and bouncing her legs. She turned the television back off, throwing the remote control onto the couch as she got up and started pacing. She finally had her freedom, and she had no idea what she wanted to do with it.
'Mom…' she whispered, running her fingers through her ponytail, 'what am I supposed to do?'
She sighed, feeling tears pooling in her eyes, knowing her mom would never be around to answer her.
Growling, Jane hurried into her bathroom and slammed the door. She grabbed her razor and threw it as hard as she could against the wall, causing it the break. With trembling hands, she picked up one of the blades from it and stared at it.
Cutting had been an outlet for Jane for years after her mom's death. It had been the only way she had been able to cope with anything that happened to her. She held her breath as she continued staring at the razor blade in her trembling hand, every instinct in her screaming at her to use it. She could actually see the red colour blossoming out of her skin, see it flowing down her arm or leg. She could feel the momentary pain and then the incredible release that she always got from cutting.
Breathing heavy, unable to let go of the razor blade, Jane hurried back into the living room and grabbed her phone. She dialled quickly, tears streaming down her face as she waited for him to pick up the other end. As soon as she heard his voice, she started crying harder.
'Daddy? Please come h-help me. I... I wanna cut myself…'