The purifying stench of bleach infiltrated his nose as he scrubbed away his sins on the bathroom floor. The back and forth motion held a hypnotizing rhythm which Eddward easily lost himself too. He was hunched over on the floor with a scrub brush perched in his hands. His wrist was wrapped in multiple layers of gauze to keep the household chemicals from the healing gash. Sweat trickled down from his hairline and collected in the neck of his shirt.

His house had been empty when he had returned home which was no surprise. If he remembered correctly his parents were currently providing their medical expertise to a small village located somewhere in South America. They probably wouldn't be returning until after the school year started back up, but even then he wasn't sure. Their presence in his life was never a guarantee, but their absence usually was.

As he wiped up the last remnants of bleach he pushed back on his knees until he sat on the floor and stretched out his aching legs. The tile felt cool beneath his calves. He was clad only in a white t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting shorts; even his beloved beanie had been removed. He cracked his knuckles before he stood back up and took one last look at his bathroom. The room was immaculate as it always was. He was very particular about how his bathroom was kept. It needed to be clean at all times because he never knew when he would be struck with the overwhelming urge to cut. He couldn't imagine exposing his body to the germs and bacteria that permeated in the average bathroom. Sure his had those same germs too, but at least he cleaned and sanitized as often as possible.

Once satisfied with the outcome he undid the dressing around his wrist and dropped it into the trash. He then kicked off his shorts and pulled his shirt over his head. After depositing the sweat coated garments neatly in the laundry bin he stepped towards the shower. He regulated the temperature before he stepped under the spray. He extended his arms out until they touched the cool wall and let his head fall forward as water cascaded down his back.

He watched as the water collected at the drain of his tub, it spiraled and swirled gracefully before being sucked down into the depths of the drain. He sighed as he reached for the shampoo and began washing his hair. The soap trailed down his wrist and he hissed as it stung his exposed flesh. He rinsed the shampoo and then examined his work. The line wasn't very long or deep for that matter, but it was still sensitive.

He pressed his ring and middle finger to the red line and marveled at the jolt that flounced along his nerves. A crude smile graced his lips as he pressed down harder. A small bead of blood pooled at the pressure. He wiped it and then let his arms fall back to his sides. The red liquid disseminated amongst the soapy water at his feet and the slightly, tinted water soon vanished.

After finishing his cleaning routine he exited the shower and grabbed a nearby towel as he made his way back to his bedroom. A quick glance at the clock perched on his bedside table beamed 2:09 in a hard green light. He slipped into a pair of clean boxers before crawling into bed. He peered at his wrist as he settled into a comfortable position. One life threatening beating had lead him to this. He would never forget that night. He mused over that night as his body finally succumbed to the darkness that enveloped his mind.

"Don't look so scared kid, we're gunna have a great time."

And just like that he was back reliving that night for the umpteenth time.

The man with amber eyes had adjusted his rear view mirror so he could marvel at his captive. Eddward was shivering in the back seat of the car and desperately trying to mask his fear. Tears pricked at the brim of his eyes, but he didn't want to cry. These thugs didn't deserve to see him so weak and yet here he was, scared and helpless. One of the men beside him wrapped an arm around his shoulders while the other grabbed his thigh and squeezed hard. He gulped refusing to look at either of them and instead stared at the floor of the dirty car. Something on the floor caught his eye and he craned his neck slightly. As they passed under the streetlights he made out a name stamped across a school identification card, Jensen Reese.

Jensen Reese was the captain of the baseball team and one of Eddward's main bullies. Jensen usually hunted him down at the end of the day before practice and then the next morning to collect his homework. The car came to an abrupt stop and Eddward jerked in his seat due to the lack of a nonexistent seatbelt, but the two boys held him steady.

"Easy there," the one on his right said, "wouldn't want ya to hurt yourself now."

Eddward peered out the window as he tried to decipher his location. His brows twitched as he tried to make out the name plastered on a nearby street sign, but it was too dark. The driver door opened and the leader of the masked vigilantes got out. The driver side passenger door opened next and the second of the trio got out leaving Eddward with the last one of them.

He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, but it worked to no avail. He had a horrible feeling lingering deep in his gut that tonight would not end well. A shove towards the open door broke his concentration and he gasped as an arm reached in and grabbed him by his shirt collar. He was hoisted out and thrown onto the cold concrete below. His arms scraped and he tried to push himself up until he was met with a crushing force to his back.

A steel toe boot ground down hard between his shoulder blades. He coughed at the sudden force and the first of his tears for the night fell freely from his eyes. Through his teary gaze he turned his head and was met with trash scattered in a dead end alley. He tried to swallow, but the pressure in his back made him want to throw up instead. The force on his back disappeared briefly and he sighed in relief until he was kicked in his side. He heard a sickening crunch and rolled over slightly as the pain shot through his chest. He was sure that a devastating bruise was beginning to form and at least two or more ribs were broken. He wheezed and looked up to his masked captors.

"Gentlemen, please," he started before composing himself, "is this truly n-necessary. I merely wish to return home." His voice cracked with the final words.

"Shut up fag," came the derogatory slur as one of the lackeys took a swig of something in a brown paper bag.

"What do you want us to do with him?" The third of the party asked their leader.

The leader smiled down at Eddward, even through the ski mask. He heard it in his voice, "I told him we were going to have a party." He said as he passed a sideways glance with his companions. "Let's make tonight one he'll never forget," the words barely reached Eddward's ears before a sickening crack took hold of his body. The ringleader had stomped down hard on Eddward's left wrist, crushing it below his boot.

Eddward cried out in pain and struggled desperately to pull his wrist away from the ironclad grip the boot had on him. The tears were falling fast now and he could barely hear the laughter over his own hoarse cries of anguish. He wished to awake from this dreadful nightmare, to be anywhere but here. Another boot kicked him in the other side while the boot on his wrist held him in place. He felt like a rag doll. The kicks came one after another until he was numb from his core outward. The pain still resonated along his nerves, but fighting back was pointless. He was weak and outnumbered. When the boot on his wrist finally lifted he pulled it towards his aching body and rolled to his other side. He hugged himself tightly as he coughed up blood. The name left his mouth purely by accident from a past of begging this individual not to hurt him.

"Jensen, p-please. I'll d-do anything, but please s-stop."

The air thickened in that moment and he felt them all turn to stare down at his broken corpse-like state.

"The fuck you just say?" came the seething voice that belonged to the accused.

Eddward pressed his uninjured hand to his mouth to keep any other words from spilling out onto the concrete. He tried to scrunch his body up as tight as he could so that maybe he could disappear into the Earth. He tried to make himself as small as could be, but it was no use. He was here beneath their hard gazes and they were starving for a taste of his blood.

"He asked you a question, fag," came the voice of a lackey followed by another hard kick.

"I'm s-sorry. I won't t-tell anyone. I-I promise!" He cried out in despair.

"Fuck!" Jensen yelled as he punched the brick wall. Eddward cringed from associating the sound with being hit. He swallowed hard as he listened to Jensen curse. "Fuck. Why'd you have to say my name? I was gunna leave you here. We were gunna mess you up a bit and leave, but now-" he leant down close to Eddward's ear and whispered, "now you can't walk outta this."

Eddward heard a quick snap and felt something cool run along his exposed arm. He opened his eyes and saw the edge of a six-inch pocket knife glide up his pale skin and leave a thin trail of blood in its wake.

"I-I beg of you. I'll never speak a word to a-anyone," he stuttered in a frantic attempt to save himself.

"Don't worry, you won't be speakin' to anyone ever again."

A cold secluded pain emanated from Eddward's stomach. His nerves cried out and he shifted slightly only to be met with a burning, fire ripping him apart. He looked down and saw the end of the knife sticking out of him haphazardly. Fresh blood quickly began to seep into his shirt from the puncture staining the material. The butt of the knife was reclaimed by Jensen who twisted and shoved it in deeper. Eddward shrieked and his body convulsed. He started coughing violently and blood shot from his mouth. His veins turned icy and his abdomen burned. He had never felt a pain like this before. He felt as if a hungry animal was ripping into his flesh for a gourmet meal.

"Shit, Jensen," came a voice that seemed so far away," this wasn't part of the plan."

Hands shot down and pulled Jensen off of Eddward's almost lifeless body. The knife which had been embedded in his flesh was abruptly ripped away and Eddward cried out one final time. There was a mixture of panicked footsteps followed by the slamming of multiple car doors. An engine purred into life and a car skidded away.

Time was no longer working. Everything seemed to stand still. Life. Death. Was he in a state of limbo?

Eddward was not sure if he was surviving or if he was slowly dying. But maybe that was the same thing. He wasn't too sure anymore. His blood was beginning to pool beneath him. The life from his veins welcomed him with open arms as it consumed the body it was once held prisoner inside of. The average adult body could house eight pints of blood, but Eddward was a scrawny teenager. At the rate at which he was bleeding, he was sure he would be dead soon.

Maybe it was the presence of death tugging at his mind which led him down this new trail of thought, or maybe it was a sad reality he had known all along. When would anyone even realize he was missing? Excluding Ed and Eddy, his parents were rarely home. How long would it take for the news of his death to reach them? Would they make it in time for his funeral? Or maybe they would send a sticky note which would be stuck upon his closed casket. It would read, "Here lays our beloved son."

He felt nauseous, but he refused to empty the contents of his stomach. If he could resist the urge during his beating he could fight it off now. He began to shiver as his blood cooled around him. The pulse inside his wrist thudded painfully and a fresh tear escaped from his eyelids. It was broken, shattered even, he was sure of it, but what was a broken wrist compared to a broken life. Eddward was the easy target of the Eds. He held no social stature, he was small and weak compared to his other companions. Maybe this demise would be pleasant. He could flee from this painful life. As soon as the thought struck him something dark began to root deep within his core. The seed of a whole new beginning had begun to fester inside his tiny body.

No, this was not the end. Eddward Vincent would not go out like this. Not by the hands of a bully. His whole life he had been bullied and he'd be damned if that's all his life would be remembered for. A new sound met his ears and the quiet faded as a loud booming started overhead. He cracked his eye open and saw bright flashing lights illuminating the dead end alley. Bright reds and blues flickered off of the trash cans as a deadly smile perched on Eddward's lips.

The fireworks were mocking him. People were out right now enjoying the beautiful Fourth of July night with their loved ones as he struggled to breathe without choking on blood. His head fell to the other side and for the first time he noticed that he was close to the sidewalk. They hadn't pushed him far into the alley so he still had a chance. He reached out in a pathetic attempt at crawling but gasped as his stomach muscles convulsed. No, he couldn't move or he would end up bleeding to death.

He shut his eyes as he tried to imagine something, anything to free himself of his current predicament. He focused on the pain. His back, sides, ribs, wrist, arms, especially the gaping hole in his stomach, they all hurt. He focused on the pain and honed in on each and every nerve trying to pinpoint where one pain stopped and where another began.

"Oh my God!" Came a panicked yell followed by footsteps running to his side.

He knew that voice, it was one that had once tortured him, but now it was going to save him. The irony.

"Are you okay? Can you hear me?" the voice whispered, her tone was coated in terror.

Eddward opened his eyes and the world danced all around him. Reality was ridiculing him as he tried to focus his mind on the voice that was anxiously trying to help him.

"Edd? Oh, no. Hold on. I'm calling an ambulance. Everything will be fine," she cried as tears pricked at her eyes.

When his mind stopped playing tricks on him and he was finally able to focus he smiled halfheartedly up at the distraught girl, "T-thank y-"

"No, don't speak. Save your strength," she commanded in a gentle tone, one he never knew her capable of.

Suddenly he started coughing violently and he was met with blood soaked breaths of air tearing through his throat until the vile substance escaped through his mouth. He couldn't breathe. Every time he attempted to take a breath he was met with a burning liquid trapped inside his lungs that demanded to be expelled. His throat was closing in on itself. He was having a panic attack. His eyes were watering as the female blurred out of his vision and he was met once again with unbearable darkness.

Eddward awoke with a gasp. He was covered in a cold sweat and his hair stuck to his face. He sat up straight in bed and pressed his left hand to his chest.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He only had panic attacks when he dreamt of that night. Whenever his mind dared to bring him back to that moment in his life that he could never forget. He swung his legs over the side of the bed as he battled internally with himself. He wanted to cut. He needed to cut. He peered down at his wrist. This wrist, his left wrist to be exact, is what they used to hold him in place. That steel toe boot had clamped down on him and held him in place trapping him like a rodent thrashing about in a mousetrap. It was the wrist he favored when he cut. In his twisted reality he needed to control the pain this wrist received. If he was the one controlling it, then his dreams wouldn't matter. They wouldn't matter because he was in control.

He needed to get that control back right now. His hand twitched with anticipation of feeling the blade between his fingers. He swallowed hard as he looked at his clock. 6:26. He'd just cut himself less than ten hours ago. It was too soon. If he started to cut right now he would not be able to stop. If he fell back into his destructive ways then he would spiral out of control and that was not an option. He sighed as he grabbed his phone. He sifted through his contacts until he fell upon her name. He hit the call icon and waited as it began to ring.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"... Edd?" The voice said in a hazy tone. She had clearly still been asleep. When he didn't answer right away her voice panicked, "Edd? What's wrong?"

He sighed, "sorry I woke you. I just-" his words trailed off. He fell back onto his bed with a silent, 'oof.' He rested his arm over his eyes and soon felt tears welling up behind his lids. He wiped at them vigorously. They had no right to take refuge on his face. He wouldn't allow them to fall. He took a deep breath and then exhaled it into the phone, "I dreamt of it again."

He heard a rustling sound on the other end followed by the soft click of a light being turned on. He hated having to wake her up. Granted it wasn't that early, but he'd been known to call her phone in the middle of the night. One particularly bad night he had ended up calling her twice. She was the only one who saw him directly after the incident and she had seen the worst of it. When he had awoken in the hospital her face was the first he had seen. She was there. She hadn't left. A little more than two years later and she was still there. She always answered the phone. He would never be able to repay her for that kindness.

When he was coherent enough to answer questions he'd revealed Jensen's name. When the police had shown up at his house they found the knife in his car still covered in Eddward's blood along with three ski masks. Jensen's friends were with him and they were arrested on the spot. They were charged with aggravated battery and assault and jailed for a maximum of six years. They were given a plea bargain and only ended up serving two years. Funny how attempted murder is overlooked when your father works for the city council and is friends with the Mayor. Reminiscing of the past; Eddward was reminded once again of their upcoming parole.

"Talk to me, Edd." She urged him.

Eddward took a deep breath. "My options were limited. Either call you or cut."

"I'm glad I answered." She said and he could hear the relief in her tone.

"I know you would prefer it if I said 'me too,' but I don't condone dishonesty."

"I know. Do you want me to come over? Or I could come and get you?"

He rolled the options around in his mind, debating on what to do. He honestly didn't know where this conversation was bound to lead. Sometimes they just talked until he fell back asleep, but that wouldn't be the case today. Other times they met up and hung out for the majority of the day. And then there were times when they would hang up and wouldn't speak again until he called after another dream. In a way, he felt guilty for using her like that, but at the same time she was the only one who knew the entire severity of his fragile state.

Eddward Vincent was no longer the scrawny, and timid little kid everyone picked on. He was even feared by some now and no one dared to mess with him. Eddy and Ed understood a little, Eddy more so than Ed, but they hadn't seen him directly after what had happened. He had called them a few days later to which Eddy was pissed. The incident had changed him drastically, first mentally. With his new mindset he needed a body that could house how he was feeling. He needed one that could outwardly show who he was inside. He had begun jogging every day as soon as he had healed from the ordeal which was months. After jogging he began simple weightlifting and even started punching a makeshift boxing bag he had made in his parents' garage.

When the sophomore school year rolled around, two months after the incident, he was an entirely different person. He was hit with a much-needed growth spurt and developed a new look to accompany his altered mindset. He traded his orange shirt and purple shorts for tight skinny jeans, a studded belt, a gray or red skintight shirt, and a leather jacket lined with a gray hood. His beanie never left his head, but it now covered his entire forehead and came to the top of his eyes. Kids talked, word had spread quickly of what had happened. Rumors flourished the hallways. He would never be Double Dee ever again. That kid had died on July the fourth.

"Edd, you still there or did you fall asleep on me."

He grunted into the phone as a response.

"Fine, I'm on my way," she responded and then ended the call before he could protest.

He sighed and then sat up on his bed. He tossed his phone onto his pillow and dropped his head into his hands. School was starting soon. They would be out soon. His lips twitched. Whether it was a smile, or the edges of his sanity trying to snap he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was going to be ready this time.

-LunaMaye