Chapter 1: Gone
Razor. Cut. Deep. Slit. Pain. Blood. Gone. These are the words that are the real Clare Edwards. Yeah, I look like that lovable, nice, happy girl who is in love with the big, scary, handsome boyfriend. Everyone says that opposites attract, well we aren't that different. I am a first-hand cutter.
I am currently in the bathroom, looking at the monster I have turned in to. With the razor in hand, I put the blade to my wrist. The cool metal presses into my skin as I drag it across my flesh, feeling the sharp bite of pain I wail out in pain. Good thing my mother is out at a meeting for the church board and my father is at the apartment they share that houses one parent as the other one watches me in the main house.
I repeat the process one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight times. Each one symbolizing the amount of months I have felt this way and have masked it.
I start to watch the blood trickle from my arm to the sink bowl, leaving my hideous body and taking the sadness away with it. I even smile sadly at the red-stained flesh on my body, trying to hide the indecent Clare away from her family, her friends, and her boyfriend.
One day, I wish to be gone. I wish I would just die to take everyone else out of their misery. I would be a memory they would soon enough forget. I am just a road block in their way.
I pick up the razor and look at it. What have I become? I rinse the blood off of the razor and wrap it in a tissue. I put it in my feminine product bag, hiding it carefully in a pad wrapping, making it look unused. I then take a wad of toilet paper and pressed it gently on the freshly-opened wound. I hiss at the stinging but it is not as bad as the pain inside myself. I would call these cuts battle wounds. I am in a battle with myself. My sanity is who I am fighting for but it is a losing war. I am slowly dying and will soon be gone.
Everything is cleaned up and I am now am forced to act like a normal person. My boyfriend will be here in 20 minutes so I decide to get ready. I put on a black hoodie with pink writing on it to hide the cuts I created 5 minutes ago. I then put on a lot of cover-up to hide the swelling in my eyes.
I go back to the mirror and put my face close to it. I analyze my eyes to see if there is any sense of worry and I quickly disguise myself into the Clare everyone else wants me to be. I hear the doorbell go off. Elijah Goldsworthy…