d o w n w a r d s p i r a l
Chapter Eight.
"Time has washed away, now I may wonder: how did it all slip by? I always thought we had forever. Future calls to me to take me away from things I don't wanna leave behind: like I'm slippin' away I can't hold on...."
Singing in the shower.
Why so happy? Well, I have a mission. A solo mission.
On my own again: no-one to justify myself to, and no-one to judge me.
Just me.
( and Shinigami )
I used to be schizophrenic, but we're OK now.
Not really funny, but I crack a smile anyway.
Twenty minutes and I'm out of here.
Gone. Vamoose. History.
As I step out of the shower I catch the barest glimpse of myself in the huge steamed-up, full-length mirror, which graces most of a wall in this oversized bathroom.
Just a blurred movement in the corner of my ever-watchful eyes.
I lean over and clear the condensation off with my towel - slowly revealing my naked body in all its disgusting glory:
Shiny, slick skin - thickly webbed by pale, parallel scars: a crosshatched map that charts my downward spiral.
Jesus! There are so many of them.
The first few times I couldn't bare to meet my reflections' wavering gaze - I mean, how fucked up do you have to be in order to take a blade to your own skin?
The second shock came when I found healing cuts that I had no memory of... then, that too became the norm.
It proves (if only to myself) that I'm not being melodramatic - I really am screwed up.
And I've got the scars to show for it.
But I can handle it.
It's just a coping mechanism: something I do when things get a little too rough.
Some people smoke, some do drugs - I cut myself.
It helps to keep the demons away.
Whatever works.
Right?
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Just the epilogue to go, so this is my last author's note:
The lyrics that Duo sings are from Offspirings' "Crossroads", used for no reason other than that it's one of my favourite songs.
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, you guys are great.
It's probably a little late for a dedication, but this was written for all those cutters out there - I hope this brings a little more understanding to this all-to-often miss-judged condition.
Thank you again,
Miseria.