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No. I refuse to believe it. 

Clare sat in her bed, it was lunchtime and she knew she should have been at school, but she couldn’t force herself out of bed this morning. She heard two sets of footsteps when her alarm had awoken her, and for a spilt second it seemed like her fathers and mothers, and she felt her heart sink when she focused in on them. The second pair of footsteps were heavy and uneven, nothing like her fathers. Her eyes grew hot, and tears fell instantly. He was always here.

Silenty, she sat up in her bed, the tape coming undone on her hand and she pulled away at it. The wound was healing, though it looked quite disgusting. Her small fingers trailed against the scab, still being able to see inside the wound. Her stomach turned as she did so, remembering the feeling as it had happened. It was instant relief, it made her worries disappear, at least for the time being.

Yesterday, Eli and Clare hadn’t spoken except for a few words in the morning, or well, mid morning.Now her headache still hadn’t gone away, her temples throbbed painfully as she sat in her bed, covered by purple and white bed sheets. Her feet kicked them away angrily and pushed herself from the bed and to the bathroom. She turned the shower on, quickly tossing her night clothes into a hamper and crawling under the hot water. Skillful fingers undid the casing of a small razor as she looked down, not even realizing what exactly she was doing until the sharp metal was pressed against the skin stretched over her hip bone and the shock was sent to her brain. Her temples calmed, her vision was normal and the water felt relaxing, though turning red as it washed over her. Stop this. Don’t do it again. What would your parents think? Eli? Adam? A voice in her head said, but the small, flexible metal tip hit the skin again, almost like scissors to paper, and tore the skin, small crimson dribbles forming and falling, the third cut the deepest, causing her to breath in sharply and almost drop the razor. The water washed the wounds, the red liquid mixing and turning a dark pink shade as it circled the drain.

All thoughts of her mother, lack of father, the fact her boyfriend was mourning and she couldn’t do anything but offer a shoulder to cry on, which even she knew was nothing to be proud of being his girlfriend she should have a miracle cure and be able to fix it all, everything washed away with the blood that poured from her.She placed the razor on the shelf in the shower and slide down to sit. The water rained down on her, soaking her curls and causing them to stick to her. Where did I go wrong? I shouldn’t be curled into a ball in here, in my shower, with cuts on my hip from myself. She thought, but released her grip on her knees, laying her legs out to look at what she had done, the cuts weren’t to deep, not the first two,and none of them were as bad as her hand, though the third came a close run to it. Her blue hues glistened with more tears as she turned the water off, stood and got out the shower, quickly drying off and going to her bed, laying back down in her towel.

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