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Disclaimer: Uh, really? I'm not legal yet. You really think I can own a TV show/stars? Common sense people.

Edit Date: November 17, 2012.

Status: Squeaky clean. (;


Chapter Two: Pinkish Scars

V

V

I slowly regain consciousness and groaned. My back felt stiff as a rock and my legs were still asleep. I raised myself up with my arms, wincing as I used the bandaged one, and wobbled on unsteady feet to my bed. I balanced myself with the bed as I cracked my back and walked back and forth, trying to wake my legs up.

"Katie! Are you up yet? It's already ten o'clock!" I heard my mom shout.

"Yeah!" I yelled back. "I'll be right there!"

I sat down on my bed and stared at my bandaged wrist. I began to un-ravel it and immediately saw dried blood on random spots of my wrist. The cuts I drew yesterday were still there - why do I always say that? They'll be there forever. They'll never be completely gone.- and blood could be seen behind them. I was tempted to cut my wrist right now, but decided against it.

I'll do that later.

I grabbed two thick bracelets from the top of my dresser and slid them on my wrist. They barely covered the scars. I ran a hand through my brown hair and walked to the door. I walked inside the living room of 2J and saw four nineteen year old boys looking half-asleep and hair flying in random directions.

Except James Diamond.

No, his hair was perfect.

As it always is.

I wish my life was as perfect as his hair.

Sadly, as much as I wish for it, it doesn't come true.

"Hey Katie." Kendall mumbled, staring at the television screen as it blinked through commercials.

"Morning Kendall," I mumbled back, trying to blink away the sleep.

"Morning Katie." Logan and Carlos said as James said "Morning Kit-Kat!"

"Someone woke up on the right side of the bed." I replied hoarsely looking at James.

James shrugged. "I'm a morning person."

"Katie!" My mother said as she walked into the living room. "Go get your eggs and bacon. They're on the counter."

"Kay." I told her and walked to the kitchen.

I grabbed my plate from the counter and saw a glass of Apple juice and fork near it. I grabbed them both and headed back to the living room. I took a bite of the eggs and moaned; they were so good. "This totally isn't Mom's cooking. Who made it?"

"Guilty." James raised a hand.

"You?" I stared at him, shocked. "You made this?"

"I woke at six.." James said. "I was bored.."

"You're my personal chef now." I replied honestly and scarfed down the rest of my food.

James chuckled. "Sure, sure Kit-Kat."

The guys left to Rocque Records after they ate their breakfast and Mom went out to an audition for a commercial, so I was alone. The razor I used was laying down on my bed, staring at me and glinting silver. It was tempting me to use it and I gave in to the temptation. I grabbed it by the edge of the blade and put it on my wrist. I looked down at the pinkish scars that scarred my wrist. Before, when I was thirteen, you wouldn't have seen any of these scars. Then I turned fourteen and I took depression the wrong way and began inflicting pain on myself.

I pressed the blade in deep and sliced to the side.

I wasn't stupid.

I wasn't going to kill myself..

Yet..

Blood spilled from the wound and trailed down my forearm.

I hissed.

It hurt so much.

But it felt so good.

Another slice to my wrist.

I can't stop after just one mark.

It's too hard to stop.

Another wince.

Blood dribbled from the wounds and onto my shirt.

Ah shit.

More things to wash.

I flinched.

Memories of my father invaded my mind.

You would think after being out of my life for practically my own life I would forget about him.

I would never forget about him - Kendall wouldn't either.

Slash.

Wince.

I should stop.

This is the most I've ever cut.

I can't stop.

It's too addicting.

Another slice.

My vision began to fade.

I. Need. To. Stop.

I grabbed my mangled wrist and held it close to my chest. Blood began to drench my shirt as I dashed out of my room and to the bathroom. Black spots started to cloud my vision as I wildly looked for the extra bandages. I quickly wrapped it around my wrist and sighed in relief. I glanced down at my blood-drenched shirt and began to wobble towards the door. But then something inside of me made me stop.

Blackness overcame my vision.

I slumped against the bathroom wall and fell unconscious.


Fin