I'm not a stranger
No, I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore
I was so stupid to believe he really loved me. He saved me from my mother. He helped me see that I didn't need to hurt myself to feel better. He was there for me when I didn't have anyone else. But who will save me from him?
I caught them together only a month after I moved in. I went home from school early that day. He said he was sick, and I wanted to make sure he was okay. But she was making sure.
Emma and Sean were in our bed. She was lying where I was supposed to be, and he was on top of her. I wanted to scream at them both but my throat tightened. I choked on the words that I wanted to say. His hands roamed her body. He touched her the way I wanted him to touch me.
A fragile frame aged
With misery
And when our eyes meet
I know you see
He loves her. He loves Emma. But he must love me too. At least just a little. If he didn't love me, he wouldn't have helped me. He cared enough to bring me into his home. He cared enough to stay up all night with me. He cared enough to make sure I didn't hurt myself.
But he didn't care enough to make love to me the way he made love to her. He didn't even care enough to lock our bedroom door.
I still stay with him. It's got to be better than living with my mom.
Is it, really? At least she needed me. At least she didn't want me to leave. But Sean doesn't need me at all. And if I left, I don't think he'd even notice.
I lie in the spot where I know she's been. It's my spot, but now it's hers too. I don't know how many times she's been there, but I know she was there enough to let him love her again.
I curl up close to him. I touch his cheek but he pulls away. I kiss him and though he kisses me back, I know he doesn't mean it.
I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I'm tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists, I find it when
I am cut
He found some blood on our sheets. He yelled for hours.
"How could you be so stupid?"
"Why would you ever do that to yourself again?"
"It's disgusting!"
"I can't even look at you."
Those were only some of the things he said. And they weren't the worst ones either. It was nothing like the way he helped me before. Before, he was calm and patient. I looked at him with hurt in my eyes, and I told him that he probably hurt his lover when he took her virginity. Then I left.
But I came back. I always come back. He apologized and hugged me close to him. I didn't feel anything. And he was back with her the next day. So my CD case went to school with me.
I hid out in the bathroom during lunch and helped myself feel better.
I may seem crazy
Or painfully shy
And these scars wouldn't be so hidden
If you would just look me in the eye
He knew what I was doing to myself, but he didn't say anything else about it after that night. He acted like everything was perfect.
At school, he held me close to him and kissed me in the halls. But at home, he pulled away from me and we rarely kissed. After dinner every night, he went out. He said he was working, but I knew he was with her.
I lay alone in our bed all night, hugging his pillow and soaking it with tears. Then I pulled my CD case from under my own pillow and flipped to the middle. The compass was the one I used the most. I used it again and again.
He came home at two in the morning and silently snuck into the room. I was awake; I was always awake. The bed sagged under his weight as he lay down beside me. He warmed me, but I still felt cold inside.
The moonlight poured in through the window, framing my fresh scars and the band-aids that stuck to my skin. But he still didn't see how much I needed him.
I feel alone here and cold here
Though I don't want to die
But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside
The metal felt cold against my arm. I let it rest there for only a moment before I began. As I dragged it along, I felt nothing. I was so used to the pain that it didn't hurt anymore. I didn't even feel that huge sense of relief wash over me like I did before. Just one cut wouldn't do this time.
I looked at the blood that started to come to the surface and spill over slowly. In my mind, I saw a naked Sean hovering over a naked Emma. It wasn't deep enough.
I made another cut. The blood came quicker this time. Tears spilled from my eyes, mixing with my blood. I saw my mother, passed out on the floor, surrounded by empty bottles.
Another cut. This time it was my father stepping onto that bus. He waved and smiled. I cut even deeper.
Again and again, until I couldn't see my pale skin any longer. The blood dripped down onto the white sheets. I started to feel dizzy, but I couldn't stop.
Sean called out my name. Was I imagining it?
My world started to fade.
I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I'm tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists, I find it when
I am cut
Pain
I am not alone
I am not alone
I woke up here; in a room full of every color but red. That was not comforting. The colors seemed fake and I didn't feel like faking it. Not anymore.
Therapists and nurses and other quiet people come and go, explaining to me what I don't remember. It's been a week since Sean found me. He brought me to the hospital and they brought me here.
For an hour each day, I sit on a hard chair in a cold room. My legs are curled up under me or I hug my knees. There are six other girls in here and one boy. I don't talk to anyone. I just listen.
I'm not alone, I know that much. There are people here like me. They hurt too, and find relief in their blood. They know that I never meant to bleed so much. They know that I hate my scars. They know because they do too. They know.
But Sean doesn't. He just doesn't understand. And he never will.
I'm not a stranger
No, I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore
He visits every week. He stays the full hour that he's allowed. I wonder if she's waiting for him in the car or in our bed. I guess it's not our bed anymore.
I ask him if he still loves me and he nods. But he just looks at me with pity all over his face. He holds me in his arms and kisses the top of my head. I want to yell at him, scream as loud as I can that he's not helping. I want to make him leave. It hurts to be so close to him but not be able to really touch him. It hurts more than living without him. It makes me want to find my CD case and start all over again.
I just want to tell him to not come back again. But I can't. The fact that he's there does help. He's the only one who visits me at all.
He must love me, at least just a little. I can live with a little. It may not be much, but it's more than nothing. It's more than anyone else has ever shown me.
I don't know how long I will be here, but maybe I'll start to talk. Maybe it will help me more than empty kisses and silence. Maybe someone else will save me this time. Or maybe I'll save myself.
But I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside just to breathe in
I'm tired of feeling so numb
Relief exists, I found it when
I was cut
The day I left, the sun was out. I carried the bag that Sean packed for me. It had everything I owned inside it; everything except for my CD case. I didn't know where it was, and I didn't want it anymore.
I know I won't go back to him. I don't need him anymore.
And I won't go back home either.
Wherever I do go, I will be happy. I will find relief inside myself, without blood, without cold metal, without cuts. I will not need anyone to save me.
I'm sure of that.
Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi or any of its characters. I also do not own the lyrics in this story. The song is "Cut" by Plumb and she owns it.