She felt the acid ball of tears work its way up her throat once again, drowning her in sorrow. She put the razor to her thigh and slit it roughly letting the red tears flow out of her. Her head laid back as she began to relax. Let it flow, Let it flow were her only thoughts. She hated emotion and crying; the red tears, the blood, flowing out of her was the way she liked to do things.
I deserve this. I am a screw up. A failure. A mistake. A bitch. A loser. All of these thoughts began racing through her head again when finally she let out a scream. She jumped up and punched the wall. Kicking and screaming, throwing a fit as if she were five. What's wrong with me? She thought as she turned around to the mirror. She sat there staring at herself pointing out all of her physical flaws then going deeper and pointing out her psychological flaws. "You're fucking crazy! You bipolar freak! Fuck you!!! Get out of me! I don't want you here! I hate you! You are so weak! you are so weak..." then she busted out into tears and collapsed onto the floor.
With blurry tear filled eyes she felt around for her razor. She put it up to her neck, ready to kill herself, but she threw the razor away and patched up her cuts. She cleared herself up and put a fake smile on her face and walked out into the world. Her mom, Sammy, would never know. She never payed much attention to her or her sister. Sammy was more focused on "her soul mate" who she is obsessed with and stalks on a daily basis. Her kids became like nothing to her. Simple people for her to scream at and boss around or ignore.
"Jacie! Come here!" Sammy yelled. Jacie sighed and put down her phone to go to her.
"Yah? What?" Jacie said reluctantly
"Put this A&D on my back."
"Fine." Jacie grabbed the A&D and squeezed it out onto her mother's back. She hated the feeling of it; it was greasy, oily, sticky, and really hard to get off of her hands. She sat there and rubbed it on Sammy's new tattoo that she got from her stalk victom, Dan. She constantly talked about him, how perfect he is and how he is her soul mate. She would drive by his house and stare at it for a while any time she got the chance.
Sammy was stuck in a world of her own. Jacie felt like she didn't matter, her only job was to either stay out of her mom's way or comfort her when she had a break down. Lisa, Jacie's little sister, stayed nuetral and didn't care about much anything, but this situation was one she couldn't ignore. It was tearing her down inside and she desperately need a therapist. Jacie already had one. She had been going to many different therapists since she was 12. When she was 14 she had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, which her mother also had. She felt as if she were crazy. Trapped with this disorder that made her a person she didn't want to be; a person just like her mom.
"OK. There, I'm done." Jacie said as she put the cap back on the tube and wiped the A&D off of her hands. Sammy got up and stared at her naked body in the mirror. She was 37 and had the body of a 27 year old. She was 5'4" with shoulder length brown hair and blue eyes. She had beautiful high cheek bones and perfect lips. Her body was in perfect shape weighing only 120 pounds. The only thing on her that showed her age was her boobs. Sammy was determined to get a boob job. Willing to spend five thousand dollars to make them perky.
"Mom, you're pretty" Jacie said as she walked out, leaving the words lingering in the air. She hoped that her mom would believe it and not get a boob job. All that money could be used on something else. They were already behind on bills and rent. Sammy kept saying pretty soon they will be homeless again. It would be the third time. The last time they had someone nice enough to let them live with them, but before that they found themselves living in an abandoned trailor with holes in the floors and roof, no hot water, and no electricity. No one wanted that to happen again.
Jacie went back to texting. She needed to be social almost always. Cutting, God, and social were her escape. If she didn't have it she would lose herself and slip back into the crazy self she was; she was violent, suicidal on a major level, rude, addicted to sex and drugs, homicidal, in prostitution, and talked to an imaginary friend. There was no way she could let that happen to herself again. She had to have good friends to help her when she felt like she was going to break down.
© Copyright 2016 Parable. All rights reserved.