"This is for both of our sakes. I hope you love me enough not to burn my body or anything of the sort. This is to you, father, as I bid this unknown farewell. If you die a good death, nothing involving suicide or anything of the sort, then I will never see you again. For I am going to sink to the deepest, darkest depths of Hell where I can see myself belonging, sitting in a shadowed corner, cowering in fear for if you do decide that dying right next to me is the smartest thing, then I shall pray for you as I leave this household in silence. I love you and I always have. Hate shall not take me over again. I will see you once again, I can feel it, but I never meant to be a burden to you, father, you have always been there for me, but this is my final choice: Hoping not to see you in the pits of hell, always yours, Selina."
She quietly reread her farewell note; everything about it expressed her silent feelings. She had always loved her dad, he had always loved her, committing himself to her need, but she found that she had been the reason of his depression all along. She reminded him of her mom. Wasn't that a bad thing if her death haunted him?
Selina crouched down in the floor of her bedroom. If she hadn't known any better her dad would hide her skin if he even figured out what she was doing. Grabbing his razor had been one of the easiest decisions she had made so far. But now, as she stared down at her bare arm, she wondered. What would her dad do if he found her lying there on the floor with blood pooling all around her in a puddle, staining the carpet, her soul and body dead, cold as ice. She could see him, bending down in front of her weeping and beating her body out in anger. What would he do? She kept thinking when a pain scraped her arm, blooding dripping onto the carpet as she watched it in interest. She would have to clean that up soon enough.
'Later,' she thought quietly. She brought a towel that had already laid on the floor to her arm and the wiped it over the floor, smearing it even more. Once it had dried, she noticed, it had stained the thin carpet. She licked her arm, stood up and left the darkness of her bedroom, noticing her dad still sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands as she walked down the long hallway. She looked back up as if she hadn't noticed anything unusual, like the tears that stained his jeans, or the blood on his fingernails, or the new whitening marks on his arms from which blood slowly poured from.
She ran to the bathroom quietly, her socks making her pace sound different than what it had been as she ran and crouched over the sink. She saw that night's dinner in a haze as her eyes continuously blurred and cleared. She heard someone come to the door, and felt Remus's hands on her shoulders immediately after her shoulders convulsed dangerously. Suddenly she had no clue what was going on. Suddenly she was lost as she heard screaming, as her back hurt and her eyes burned. Why was he screaming? Nothing made sense for some reason.
Remus sat on the couch, his head in his hands when he heard the doorknob to his daughter's bedroom open and she stepping out. He knew she looked at him while passing the living room. He looked up as she looked back to the hallway where she was going. She had spotted the bloody marks on his arms from his own fingernails, signs of torture, probably for the both of them. He heard her running towards the bathroom, heard the door slam, and heard her vomit.
He jumped up immediately and made his way down the hall, not completely aware of what was going to happen. He stared at her figure over the sink, suddenly putting his hands on her shoulders instinctively, but his grip tightened as he realized what was missing from the bathroom, spotting the open drawer, the still bleeding mark on her arm, not even noticing she had just thrown-up.
"What have you done to yourself! Do you intend to degrade yourself! Just because there is no other way out does not mean you take it! You should face what you have yet to know and what you've already learned!" His voice, ever so quiet and calm, rose as he spoke so loudly, that she could hear the porcelain of the bowl of the toilet and floor of the bathtub ringing with his voice.
The sound of his voice echoed to the other side of the room.
She cowered back between the two when she finally decided to speak.
Selina was wrenched away from the sink so quickly she hadn't had the time to realize who was screaming. Oblivious to his screams for a few moments, she heard the ringing of his voice in the bathroom and pushed herself between the bottom of the toilet and the bath tub before she chose to speak to her father as she took in what he was saying.
"If you listened to yourself fully then you'd realize that you're talking about more than one person here." It was hardly even muttered before he paused, everything suddenly silent, and heard the nearly inaudible line.
He stared at the broken things on the floor, just beginning to realize what he had done, when he remembered why she had run so unceremoniously into the room. He only barely tried to reach her between the closed space she had crawled into when he heard her speak only moments after he had decided to stop screaming and do something that would make her explain what she had chosen to do. Only to be surprised when she whispered, almost silently, that line that had been so rudely concocted, "If you listened to yourself fully then you'd realize that you're talking about more than one person here."
He blinked and returned to studying the things on the floor, and silently leaned in toward her before he decided to crouch down in front of her and apologize, try to help her with what she had done and teach her it was completely wrong and useless to do something so disrespectful in so many ways, to those around them and to themselves.
She stared at him silently between the space she had so unceremoniously settled in when he had moved toward her, crouching down, and with her eyes wide, put his hands on her shoulders, and muttered a quiet, imploring, begging apology, that she refused to believe. If he could go from flaming mad top silent depressing sorrow, or whatever he had hung himself over, in only moments rather than taken half an hour to think over what she had done, she refused to believe it. She knew. It only made half since, and she couldn't think properly with her heart pounding, her stomach hurting, her eyes burning, and the nauseating feeling that she was ready to release in another place besides that sink which she had thrown herself over only minutes ago.
He watched her carefully, studying her face, her expression, as he spoke quietly, "Look, I apologize. I shouldn't have done that. What you did was completely unacceptable. What I did myself was completely unacceptable. But we both fight for what we both believe in, do we not? When I ask you to avoid this situation from now on, I want you to know that this is a command when I say it. Is that understood?" He watched her, her eyes, the fear that was half hidden in them, they way her hands were shaking as she moved forward and hugged him, but there was not anything that made the hug less awkward.
As she listened to him, she felt her hands go with her as a shuddered and wave of emotion pass over her. She had accepted his apology, still wondering that if the hate that was inside her for this man now, her father, then it would have been hurting him in any way possible as she hugged him silently. She felt her eyes burning even more still, felt the tears that had given themselves away to slide down her face, leave her and fleck the light shirt he was wearing, and felt her body shake once more.
She could have come up with the fact that he thought this as shaking from his rant, fear he had so suddenly made her awake, but something she knew he couldn't interpret was the senseless hatred that had so clearly made itself appear. She looked back down at the back of her hand, at her arm, at the very base of her palm where she could just make out the scrape from the razor. She was so glad that her father had only seen the newest of her scar collection: the back of her hand which had also started to bleed once more.
Remus felt her body shake with either adrenaline of hate. Something had definitely made the hug worse, but he could tell until something warm flowed onto the sleeve of the tattered shirt he wore. He looked down at the lowest part of the top of his forearm to see a spot on the shirt sleeve soaked in blood. He grasped her hand and took her to the sink, running the water over her hand and brushing the flowing blood off with his thumb.
He could feel her hand shake. The small movement made its way up her arm all the wake to her chest. He turned and looked at her convulsing body, suddenly bathed in light. They both fell to the floor, both screaming in agony and pain.
She fought the feeling of wanting to push her dad's firm hand away from her arm, but she pulled herself in check and decided quite silently just to let him take her to the sink and put her hand under the running cold water. She realized that he kept glancing at her as if she were going to fall on the floor at any minute. Suddenly pain took her by surprise. She felt her hands shaking first. The pain spread immediately up her arm. She felt her shoulder pulled toward her spine and her head threw itself back completely by its own accord. She felt her arms trembling, and, as she started sinking to the floor, as the spasms continued to course throughout her body, she felt her father sinking with her, the pain engulfing her as if she were in a cold fire that made her want to shout and scream out in pain, though the shouts never left her gaping mouth as she stared up at the ceiling. Completely unaware of who she was and suddenly wondering why she was kneeling in front of a cabinet, standing on the tiled, cold floor in the middle of an unknown place with someone lying next to her. She smelled blood and went completely insane for the taste, her lips tingling as she looked around, immediately spotting the shaking figure in front of her.
She gazed at it intently. Something about this wolfish figure showed an aura that seemed to shout out, "SHOW ME RESPECT OR I'LL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF!"
She watched as the eyes flickered open, suddenly aware of the burning amber color that they had received. The gentleness in them tore the aura away from the figure. It gazed up at her, suddenly aware of everything around it, but she suddenly felt the urge to rush at him and fight him off, out of her new territory.