It was a Monday afternoon.
Hell had just let out. Or in other words, school. Violet was just making it home. She was furious and mumbling hateful words about her new school, but mostly about how her parents had moved her halfway across the country to fix their pathetic, crumbling marriage only to have it fall apart again when her dad was caught cheating with an 18 year old whore. Vivien had left the family. She couldn't handle it anymore. No trace of her was left, she simply packed up her bags and left Violet with a father she loathed and a yapping dog.
She set outside smoking a cigarette she had bummed off of a kid in class, not caring whether she was caught or not. It's not like her father could hold anything against her after all the things he had done, right? Afterwards she tossed the cigarette to the ground, putting it out with the bottom of her shoe and then headed inside. She went up the stairs and into the bathroom, opened the cupboard and swiped a fresh blade. She pulled up her sleeves. Angry, red marks lined up and down her arm. Some old, most of them new. She swiped the blade across her thin wrist and watched the blood gurgle from the fresh wound and then fall onto the white counter. Drip..Drip..Drip..
Looking into the mirror she saw a large cut on her right cheek. She had gotten into a fight at school. Some girl freaked out that she was smoking on school grounds, and along with her two mindless clones, attempted to "kick the shit out of her." She had eventually made it out of the fight after fumbling for her still lit cigarette and burning the girls hand, but still the girl managed to claw her cheek with her 100$ manicured fingernails.
She washed the blood off, but as for hiding the cut, there wasn't much she could do.
"You're doing it wrong. If you're trying to kill yourself, cut vertically, they can't stitch that up." She whipped her head and saw a tall, shaggy haired blonde boy leaning against the doorframe. Who the hell did he think he was? Barging in on her like that with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "How did you get in here?" She asked, bewildered. He showed no emotion. "Also, if you're trying to kill yourself, you might wanna try locking the door."
When he closed the door and left, she stared blankly for a few moments. Who was he? Why is he giving a stranger tips on how to kill herself? She decided to drop it, and cleaned up, watching the blood and water swirl down the drain with fascination. Once she had disposed of the evidence, she covered her arms with her long sleeves, her new cuts stinging a little as the fabric rubbed on them. She stepped outside, looked down the hall to make sure her father wasn't close by and headed down to her room. There he was again, fumbling with her iPod dock.
"What are you doing in here!" She practically screamed. He seemed completely oblivious to what she had just said. "You have a pretty nice music selection here. Nirvana, Morrissey, Sex Pistols? Nice. Much better than all that mainstream shit people call music."
Violet started at him, mouth open but no words coming out. "You go to Westfield right? I've seen you around. I'm a patient of , our session just ended. "
Violets mouth was still open. He seemed so calm, not weirded out at all that he had just been caught snooping in the room of the girl he had given advice on how to kill herself. But for some reason, she stood perfectly still, she couldn't speak. Her brain was a jumble. And after a few seconds of fiddling with her iPod, he looked up at her, obviously waiting for a response of some sort. It was now that Violet actually looked at him. He had a strong jaw, porcelain skin, blonde shaggy hair and mischievous dark brown eyes. He was wearing baggy blue jeans and a green and black striped sweater. He looked like a modern day Kurt Cobain. He smiled, revealing rows of perfect white teeth. Violet shuddered, forgetting the feelings of anger and confusion towards him and muttered 'Why are you seeing my dad?" Fuck. That was weak.
His eyes suddenly darkened. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to." Violet paused. He laughed, "Just kidding. My cocksucker of a mom thinks I'm mentally unstable after I pulled the fire alarm as a prank two weeks ago." Well look at that, he also had fucked up parents.
'Oh.' He walked towards her a little, and then stopped suddenly. "Are you afraid of me or something?" He said questioningly. No more bullshit.
"You come into the bathroom and tell me how to kill myself, I walk into my room to have some peace and quiet from this fucking horror show of a world only to find you snooping around in my room and then pretending like nothing's wrong , and no, I'm not afraid, I'm creeped the fuck out."
It all came out so fast. She took a deep breath she realized she had been holding and sighed. "I uh.. Im sorry.. I'll leave now." He quickly walked to the door. "Wait." She said, and then paused. There was something about him. Something she couldn't resist, she couldn't bear with the thought of this stranger leaving. "It's okay. I freaked out. "
He smiled. Maybe I'll finally have a friend, he thought.