Chapter 1: Breakeven: The first scar
By: VanillaTwilightByOwlCity
I'm still alive, but I'm barley breathing…
This is the way I feel when I walk past you, barley alive because I can't have you, knowing that I'm not good. That I never will be good enough. I never was for anyone. This is the same thing I feel as I reach under my sink to grab the blade, the execto-knife that I hid in case I ever needed it. I had never done anything like this before. In a way, it was my first time but I knew, it wasn't something to be proud of. Not this.
As the salty tears on my face start to fall, I listen to the lyrics more closely.
'Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't break even…
You and I have never actually gone out, but this is the way I feel. Like my heart is breaking because I hear all this shit. "Yeah, he made out with this girl at the dance while slow dancing. She's really pretty" "Oh, I don't wanna seem like the flirter when he's actually the flirter. " You see, lots of girls fall for you. I'm no exception. The truth is I fell for you since day 1. Since, I walked into that class on the first day of school. You stole my heart and in a flash, before I even reached my seat. This was something I was sure of since no one had done this before. As I reached closer for the knife, more and more tears fall down, faster and hotter than ever before. I felt empty, hollow and alone.
I didn't really have any friends. Not since I moved at least. Not in this city or should I say, town. I just wanted my old life back. Maybe that was part of the reason why I was going to do this. Maybe it was just the rush of memories; the painful breakups, the aching heart, the ruined friendships, the failed dreams, the tears I tried to hold back whenever I see you. At least, that's what I told myself. You're different somehow. I'd do anything to make sure you're happy and safe. You're someone who I'd rather hurt myself then you. I hurt myself so you can't.
What am I supposed to say when I'm all chocked up and you're okay…
I honestly love talking to you. But the thing is, I get all shy and scared because I don't want to make a fool out of myself, even though it never works out that way. I want to be with you but I don't know why I can't tell you. Tell you that I love you. Tell you that I want nothing more than then to be with you. For you to call me yours and to put a stop to this pain that I continue to feel.
I'm falling to pieces, yeah, I'm falling to p i e c e s . . .
As I grab the knife and hold it tight in my palm, I feel myself trembling. I look in the mirror. I don't know who the person looking back at me is. There's no smile, no shine, no sparkle in her eyes, no beauty. Instead I see a girl, dressed in sweats and a white T-shirt. I see tears rolling down her pale white cheeks. I see messy brown hair glazing her shoulders. Looks like it was naturally curly but it's been straightened multiple times. I feel sorry for this girl. I feel pity and sympathy. She's a mess, inside and out. She looks so broken, so dead right now, so filled with pain. It looks as if she's holding back something. Something she wants no one to see.
Suddenly, I see memories and catch glimpses of memories. They must be this girl's.
"Hahaahahahahahaha! What do I care? I don't even like you anymore." And with that, Eric walks away. Back to his busline where I can see him holding back tears. Then, they call out his bus number. "Bus 9 stand up!" He grabs his backpack and follows the line the door. Right before he leaves, he turns and looks straight into my eyes. I look back and feel ashamed of what I did. I see sadness, regret and a small tear that is threatening to tip over and fall down, like a delicate china teacup that's about to fall off the plate and shatter.
Then, the memory shifts into another one.
"Now, to alamain right, you need to hold your corners hand." The gym teacher, Miss A says. I look at my corner and see that it's him and man, does he look better than ever. Even in our ugly grey and green uniforms, he still manages to take my breath away. His thick eyelashes surround his chocolate brown eyes that I always have to catch myself when I look into them because I could get lost in them. He runs his hand through his head of brown messy curls. I glance at my friend Steph and she's smirking at me. She knows I like him. I roll my eyes but can't help to smile. I have to watch myself or my smile could very wide and I might scare him. "Take your partners hand and do an 180˚ turn. Then switch with the next person in front of you using your free hand. Now let's try it. And go!" I hold my hand out for him and I let him take it because the feeling that follows is incredible. It's a mixture of safeness, security and sparks. My breath hitches and I feel my heart stop in my chest. I can't breathe, but I don't care. It's like nothing I've ever felt before. Oh, how I longed to be in his arms, to tell him the truth, to overpass this unbelievably strong, invisible emotional wall that I keep hiding behind. What is wrong with me? Why is he different than every other boy? What makes him so different, so much better, so special? But, I know the answer. Actually, I don't. But I know that everything happens for a reason. I know that we may not know the reason why. I don't know why he's in my life but one day I'll figure it out. All I know now is he just is different.
Then the memories stop. I hear the music and lyrics again.
I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing. 'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even…
I realize that the girl I see in the mirror is me. The real me. The one I let no one see because I don't want to hurt them. How could I let myself become this. I remember saying, I would never do this. I slide the knife up until I see the blade. It's silver, shiny and deadly yet, it looks so inviting. I knew that one quick swipe and everything would be over. I could do that but that would just hurt everyone more; my mom, my dad, my sister and the rest of my family, but, not him. He wouldn't know. Besides, he wouldn't care anyways. I pause as I place it above my tiny wrist. I won't do it too deep, just enough to feel the numbness, to feel the pain and the burning. But is this the right way to deal with this? Is this right? Then I remember him. Who cares? No one. No one loves me. I'm an ugly, fat, whore who left all her friends to live in this horrible city where people are only my friends because they feel sorry for me. I'm the new kid and I don't fit in. To them, I'm just annoying and pathetic. I hate this town where I met him, where I let all this happen. So who cares? Who will give a shit? No one. So, I pressed the cold, hard blade down into my arm. It stings at first. Then, I feel numb and the pain inside stops. I feel relieved for once since I met him. I remember reading once something that Sheryl Crow once said.
The first cut is the deepest.
I'm falling to pieces, yeah, I'm falling to p i e c e s . . .
Author's Note:
The song in this is Breakeven by The Script. Amazing song.