Finding Your Peace
author:lil_remedy
characters: all fictional
A/N: this is the first story i made that is completed. the ending might be awkward a bit...i'm not used to writing an ending.
You suddenly threw the papers in front of you away.
Your friends looked up at you in surprise; you were not expressive in your actions. But you only glared at the space in front of you, burning a hole into the wooden table.
“Alex? You okay?” Ashley, who was in front of you asked tentatively. The look on your face must have frightened her, but you were way beyond caring.
That was when you realized you were acting uncharacteristically. You were known to be expressionless, even at the end of a scathing insult, you would only pretend like it was a pass-off comment. You glanced at your friends who looked at you like you had just grown a second head, and sighed softly.
You slowly schooled back your features to a nonchalant face and smiled good-naturedly. “Haha. I’m fine. Just surprised with the obvious answer.” By then, your lies had become common and flowed so easily from your lips that you wondered whether they still believed you. However, your friends only look relieved and proceeded to laugh away the awkwardness you had caused.
You sighed for the second time. Well, anything is better than the alternative, right? You know you were wearing a mask, not showing how you really feel or acting it. But then again, you have had this mask for so long you don’t even know how you’re supposed to act, how you really feel.
The papers in front of you had ceased to become anything of interest. You were beginning to get restless. You glanced at your watch. 15 minutes before the school ends. That could take forever, the way you are now. You took a peek around you and to your relief, saw no teacher. This was your cue.
“Guys, I’m heading back. You guys are eating lunch, right? I’m gonna hit the bunk.” The lines were perfectly rehearsed that you had a suspicion they were only half-listening to you. But you couldn’t care less. You quickly packed your stuff - slapping papers together in a rush - and walked away without looking back.
You reached your room in record time. You threw down your bag and took out your ever-loyal music player. This was your time. The only time you can escape from reality and pretend you weren’t on this roller-coaster ride of emotions. You settled yourself on your flat bed expecting sleep to overcome you.
1 minute, 2 minutes, 5 minutes…10 minutes passed when you realized you won’t be able to get your peace. Putting your right arm on your forehead, you looked blankly at the chalk-white ceiling. You might be a picture of comfort and rest, but your mind was wheeling away - thinking of things that could be, should be and would be.
You knew that you couldn’t escape, even in your sleep. Even when you had nothing to do, your mind still insists to work. Sometimes you just wished that you had a brain switch - so you can switch it off whenever you please.
You were alone in your room - your roommates were still in their classes - but that wasn’t a comforting thought. They were bound to return, and at that moment, there goes your resemblance of peace.
You willed for the wheels inside your head to stop turning, but images suddenly rushed through your heads. You knew what was coming and you couldn’t stop it. Correction - you didn’t want to stop them. Pictures of yourself in various kind accidents (all of them which involved blood) consumed your mind. Falling down the stairs, knocking your head at the edge of the table, getting hit by a car - all these sick images should have disgusted you, scared you but strangely you were becoming calmer by the minute.
As the images continually invaded the precipice of your eyesight, your unfocused eyes fell on your left wrist. Sleep was already forgotten as you held out your arm to peer more closely. Without close scrutiny, there would seem to be nothing. But you knew even without looking that there were three lines of fading scars right on top of your left wrist. You gently rub your forefinger and middle finger across you wrist, feeling the slight bumps where the skin had mended.
You traced the scars longingly, suddenly having the desire to add another in the collection. You tried hard to squash it down but the desire was overpowering, enticing your soul. It coursed through your blood, pumping adrenaline so that the pain to come would be bearable. Your body went into auto-pilot mode and you got up from your bed. A quick glance at the clock showed that only 10 minutes had passed since you came back. Plenty of time to execute your plan.
Your fingers were trembling in excitement (or was it fear?) as it reached out for the cutter you always kept near you. You pushed the handle upwards and the blade gleamed mercilessly, capturing your reflection on its steel body. You pointed the sharp point towards your wrist but stopped suddenly. The point of the blade was mere inches from the pale blue veins on your skin, suspended on air by invisible threads. Your hands were shaking so badly that the blade was in danger of slipping from between your fingers.
Something was prickling the back of your neck. You were suddenly aware of eyes watching your every move. You stopped for a moment, calculating your next decision. You quickly shuffled towards the door while holding the blade at the tips of your fingers. You didn’t want other parts of your body to be injured by accident. Time was ticking fast and the least you wanted is to be found out.
You reached the shower stall in record time. The excess water from the shower was making ‘plop plop’ sounds. You sighed. You always felt calm under the shower. No wonder you liked rainy days so much. Then, with trepidation you lifted your left wrist and again, pointed the blade towards the blue veins. This time, you didn’t have the feeling of being watched but there was still that prickly feeling. You chose to ignore it and concentrated on what you were about to do.
As the blade sliced through your wrist smoothly, like cutting through silk, the prickly feeling was replaced by another feeling. It was not unlike the feel of flowing water down your skin. You felt light, as if you were weightless. And as sudden as its change, your mood lifted. The blade left a trail of blood in its wake, and you felt liberated. The pain was there somehow, but you pushed it to the back of your mind. You wanted to enjoy every last drop of blood. The blood neither spurted nor did it pour out like in the movies. It just flowed down, just the way you liked it.
You have always been fascinated in blood. Not other people spilling their blood, just yours in particular. While other kids cried over a speck of blood on their cuts, you were moving from licking your cuts clean to injuring yourself on purpose just to see your blood spilling out. You couldn’t explain it if anyone asked because you didn’t know the reason yourself.
But then again, reasons are not important when all you care about is the satisfaction you get. Cutting your wrist felt like drinking a cup of orange juice after a hard day of labor under the scorching sun. Or like getting a fix after days without it. Well, this was your fix, so to speak. As you felt the stinging pain where the blade sliced through your skin, you felt light, almost weightless. You felt like a heavy burden had finally been lifted from your shoulders.
You sagged down the door you were leaning against, almost landing your butt on the wet floor. You heaved a great sigh and slowly you felt all the pain and anger you’ve been harboring inside you leave. The turmoil you felt in your heart escaped from the prison you built around them. You felt all them drop to the floor joining the small pool of blood. Your uninjured hand reached outward to open the shower. Water poured down like rain and washed away the pool of blood towards the drain.
As you watched the last traces of blood swept away, you suddenly felt sad. Like something precious had just left you. You fought the urge to cry, but the traitorous tears felt out of your eyes before you could reign them in. Only for today, you whispered to yourself. So you let all your sadness and anguish out. You never believed in the crying therapy. You prided yourself for being difficult to let your tears out. But lately, your dams were always in excess of water, and your tears will come out even without you noticing.
When small sobs replaced your silent tears, you decided that it was time to go. Blood had already dried along the lines of your wrist and voices along the hallway told you that classes was over. You cleaned the dried blood away for the last time, pulled down your long-sleeved shirt and walked out of the stall. You did not cry too hard, you made sure of that. However, you splashed water unto your face for good measure.
You made the short walk back to your room and found out that your roommates were already back and they were asleep. You let out a sigh of relief. You did not want to encounter them just yet. You tiptoed quietly across the room to your bed. You heard sounds from outside and in delight, discovered that it was raining heavily. You felt calmer and happier like you haven’t felt them in days. However, you knew that this good feeling was short-lived and you’ll continue the whole cycle all over again. Your common sense fought to reason with your desire. You knew you had to stop using your wrist as an escape from reality albeit a hurtful one. So you promised yourself that this would be the last time.
And as the sounds of rain hitting the canopy of trees lulled you to sleep, you felt hope of leaving this dangerous habit for good. You felt devoid of troubles and the pain that refused to go were kept deep, deep inside your heart to be let out for another time. This time, you did not have to wait for sleep to come. This time sleep came to you swiftly, covering your entire exhausted body like a huge blanket.
That was 4 years ago.
You always referred it as your Darkness Era to your partner. The first time your husband, the love of your life, saw your thread-like scars, he was astounded. He looked at you and you felt his eyes penetrate your very soul that you’ve kept in hiding all those years. You waited for the reaction you have feared all your life. You had always imagined people’s horrible reactions when they saw your scars but it never had become a reality. You braced your self for the onslaught of insults and ‘you’re crazy ’s and other scathing remarks from the person you loved most.
But what happened next caught you off guard and literally took your breath away. Instead of playing out your imagination, the man in front of you took your scarred left wrist and kissed it, right on top of the numerous lines of scars. You looked at him in shock, unable to come up with a single thought. It felt as if your brain suddenly switched off and you were only able to look at your husband wide-eyed.
Carefully, he gathered you in his arms, as if afraid a mere touch would break you and whispered in your ears, “You finally found the courage to tell me, Alex. I’m so proud of you.” His words surprised you. Not because it was spoken with so much warmth and love but because it was totally unexpected. When you’ve finally recovered your brain functions and voice, you asked what he meant with a small, child-like voice.
The conversation that followed after made you realized a whole lot of things. You had been close friends with your husband for a very long time before you decided to accept his proposal. And although you hated to admit it, he was the first one who truly understands you. Your temperaments, the need to be alone sometimes, the sudden switch from cheerful to depressed, he understands them all. You noticed that he was always there whenever you needed someone and he left you alone when you did not want any contact with human beings.
But you never knew how far he understood you. You had guard your secrets carefully and no one knew about them at all. You started wearing your watch on your left hand to hide the scars and nobody noticed the change, or the scars. But he did. He noticed everything even if you failed to notice his perceptive eyes.
Through the conversation, he finally admitted that instead of being terrified, he was intrigued by you. The discovery led him to finding out your past from your closest friends. The discovery that had led him to fall in love with the broken you. He told you that he saw you as broken pieces and it made him want to be the person to glue you up back together. And he finally succeeded. The moment you showed him the scars, the last piece of you was finally glued together with the rest.
You finally understood how it felt to have someone who really knows you, inside out. You finally felt how it was to be really loved by someone.
You finally had what you’ve been wishing for all these years.
You finally found your peace.
comments: i did say i'm not good at writing endings, right? i wanted it to be light-hearted since the whole story seemed too angsty. though i think its a bit too awkward. hope i'll do it better next time.