Trigger warning. I am dead serious about it. And sorry for the mess up yesterday. (obviously wasn't paying attention)
Over the hill
I wish the rest of my weekend was spent just lying around and cuddling with Sei, but it was not to be. Halfway through the meal Sei got a phone call from a very frantic Momoi and left shortly after the meal was done. He had said something about family business. Though I know nothing of his family… he had not mentioned it before.
I spent the rest of the weekend working on the songs Momoi had asked for and I'm happy to say I got over that hill, eventually. But that was twenty minutes ago, when my clock had said ten to nine. Now I'm just frozen, staring at the screen of my cell phone.
I read the message over and over again. I try to understand what is hidden between the words, between the individual letters. I even try to understand the coding that makes the message possible, but I know next to nothing about that and pretty soon I just stare at the phone: waiting. Waiting for the thing to ring. Yearning for the phone to ring, for someone to tell me that this is some sort of sick joke and that my entire world is actually not crumbling down around me.
"Don't come into work tomorrow, or for the next few days. You are on paid suspension until I tell you otherwise. Don't leave your apartment and don't let anyone in". – Sei
I gulp as I read it over and over again. Suspension? What for? I didn't do anything wrong. I dial Sei's number but it goes straight to voicemail. I then try to phone Momoi but she doesn't pick up either. The panic and anxiety sweep over me again. I choke back bile and I phone everyone in my contact list that has to do with work, but no one answers.
I don't realise I'm crying until I feel the droplets splash on the back of my hand and then it's as though the flood gates open. I start to sob noisily and an unearthly wail leaves my lips.
I drop my phone and run to the bathroom. I press my lips closed to keep the bile in my mouth until I reach the toilet and I spit it out. The retching rakes my body and the sobbing fills the bathroom. I keep on heaving until there is nothing left in me and then some more. I climb into the bath-shower hybrid and curl into a ball. I know I am being pathetic at the moment but I cannot help it. I rock back and forth to try and calm down.
I notice my razor staring at me, I feel it pulling me in. No, I mustn't… I reach for it clumsily. Put is back! Its weight is reassuring in the palm of my left hand. Don't do it! I mindlessly yank off my pants, toss it across the room and I barely notice the silvery scares that reside upon my thighs. STOP! I hold the blades to my skin and draw a line the length of my thumb. NO!
Relief washes over me and I hate that I've done it. I curl up in a ball of self-loathing and cry as my blood trickles and ebbs over the silvery-white skin of my thighs.
A/N
Please don't hate me.