entering the house I find scattered items of a woman’s clothing draped over the couch, the floor, the kitchen bench – I take note to disinfect that thoroughly when I wake up – but the place is blissfully quiet.
A flickering light catches my attention from the kitchen table, and I glance over to see a phone flashing. A picture of a couple embracing fills the screen, and the name Kyle. Half that couple is Sarah. It looks as though she isn’t as interested in Jake as he is in her. I’m not too worried though, he’s not a one woman kind of guy. His infatuation with her won’t last. I’m certain, that’s one of the reasons we’re housemates. If I’m never going to have a family, I need to house share with someone who’s going to stick around a while. Even if he’s serious about her, it might be an ex and she just hasn’t changed the picture yet, or maybe it’s her brother. It’s really none of my business and I don’t want to cause any shit so I won’t ask. I’ve got bigger problems to worry about anyway.
I fall asleep with turmoil in my head and for once I have a nightmare different than the usual one. Who would’ve thought it could get worse?
Chapter Eleven
“The wings of hope carry us, soaring high above the driving winds of life.” - Ana Jacob
Roxi
B y the time I get home my anxiety has skyrocketed. I want to cry again so damn bad. There’s a lump in my throat and it won’t go away. I feel empty, but I know there must be something inside because my heart aches.
Disturbing thoughts swirl in my head, all Joseph’s spiteful words are stabbing like a knife in to my nerves, twisting, sending me crazy. The mental abuse is just as bad as the physical, sometimes worse. At least when he causes me physical harm though, I can concentrate on the pain instead of all the horrible things he says. Pain is my friend when it has the ability of making everything else fall away.
I need to do something to force my mind away from the frenzy of thoughts that won’t shut up, if I don’t, I think I could be at serious risk of going insane.
“Get a grip, you worthless piece of crap.” I taunt myself as I rock back and forth. My arms are wrapped around my knees, as I try to hold it together. I’m on the brink of losing my mind.
I push myself up off the floor and go into the bathroom. My hands shake as I pick up the razor blade. I’m terrified of the sting I know this will cause, so I focus on the relief I know it will bring.
As I scrape the blade across my arm and watch the red line appear, I tell myself I’m not a nut job. I’m by no means suicidal. I wouldn’t take it any further than this. I mean, it would be nice not to exist, but I don’t have the courage to hurt myself that badly. Besides, Ricky needs me.
A burning sensation sears across my now butchered skin. I smile as I watch the blood trail down the sink and into the drain, taking some of my troubled thoughts with it.
*****
I t’s 1:55 p.m., exactly one hour until I have to leave to get Ricky. After my melt down earlier, I’ve been procrastinating all day. Frightened to make the call, but I know I need to. Countless times now I have dialled the number, only to hang up on the first ring.
I even tried to take the coward’s way out and send an anonymous message to their website. The only reply I got was that they are always there to help and to give them a call on the provided number.
Wiping my sweaty palms over my shorts, I pick up my iPhone once again. My heart races, as I stare at the screen and go over what I’m going to say in my head. I chew on my nails and stress over if they will be able to track me if I call on my mobile. Maybe they’ll be so horrified by my story they’ll come and force Ricky and me to leave before I’m ready. Or worse, they’ll come and take Ricky away from me.
The phone slips from my hands as I throw myself backwards on the bed and cry out in frustration. I lay still, staring at the ceiling. I want to pace.
A flickering light catches my attention from the kitchen table, and I glance over to see a phone flashing. A picture of a couple embracing fills the screen, and the name Kyle. Half that couple is Sarah. It looks as though she isn’t as interested in Jake as he is in her. I’m not too worried though, he’s not a one woman kind of guy. His infatuation with her won’t last. I’m certain, that’s one of the reasons we’re housemates. If I’m never going to have a family, I need to house share with someone who’s going to stick around a while. Even if he’s serious about her, it might be an ex and she just hasn’t changed the picture yet, or maybe it’s her brother. It’s really none of my business and I don’t want to cause any shit so I won’t ask. I’ve got bigger problems to worry about anyway.
I fall asleep with turmoil in my head and for once I have a nightmare different than the usual one. Who would’ve thought it could get worse?
Chapter Eleven
“The wings of hope carry us, soaring high above the driving winds of life.” - Ana Jacob
Roxi
B y the time I get home my anxiety has skyrocketed. I want to cry again so damn bad. There’s a lump in my throat and it won’t go away. I feel empty, but I know there must be something inside because my heart aches.
Disturbing thoughts swirl in my head, all Joseph’s spiteful words are stabbing like a knife in to my nerves, twisting, sending me crazy. The mental abuse is just as bad as the physical, sometimes worse. At least when he causes me physical harm though, I can concentrate on the pain instead of all the horrible things he says. Pain is my friend when it has the ability of making everything else fall away.
I need to do something to force my mind away from the frenzy of thoughts that won’t shut up, if I don’t, I think I could be at serious risk of going insane.
“Get a grip, you worthless piece of crap.” I taunt myself as I rock back and forth. My arms are wrapped around my knees, as I try to hold it together. I’m on the brink of losing my mind.
I push myself up off the floor and go into the bathroom. My hands shake as I pick up the razor blade. I’m terrified of the sting I know this will cause, so I focus on the relief I know it will bring.
As I scrape the blade across my arm and watch the red line appear, I tell myself I’m not a nut job. I’m by no means suicidal. I wouldn’t take it any further than this. I mean, it would be nice not to exist, but I don’t have the courage to hurt myself that badly. Besides, Ricky needs me.
A burning sensation sears across my now butchered skin. I smile as I watch the blood trail down the sink and into the drain, taking some of my troubled thoughts with it.
*****
I t’s 1:55 p.m., exactly one hour until I have to leave to get Ricky. After my melt down earlier, I’ve been procrastinating all day. Frightened to make the call, but I know I need to. Countless times now I have dialled the number, only to hang up on the first ring.
I even tried to take the coward’s way out and send an anonymous message to their website. The only reply I got was that they are always there to help and to give them a call on the provided number.
Wiping my sweaty palms over my shorts, I pick up my iPhone once again. My heart races, as I stare at the screen and go over what I’m going to say in my head. I chew on my nails and stress over if they will be able to track me if I call on my mobile. Maybe they’ll be so horrified by my story they’ll come and force Ricky and me to leave before I’m ready. Or worse, they’ll come and take Ricky away from me.
The phone slips from my hands as I throw myself backwards on the bed and cry out in frustration. I lay still, staring at the ceiling. I want to pace.
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