Shaken and Tried
Chapter 10
~~TRIGGER WARNING~~
I've become infatuated with slicing my ankles. Just the way the pale skin stretches over the bone is inciting, and seeing them bleed is sickly thrilling. I love the way they would continue to hurt with each step I take that day, and if I wanted more pain I could simply step a little harder. I loved the way they bleed and bleed because I seem to be able to cut deeper there. With this comes danger though. At any moment my slightly too small jeans can ride up when I sit down, or I can reach to itch my ankle only to come back with bloody finger nails. But I continue to do it. I wear boots or high tops on days where my jeans don't quite make the ends of my ankles when forced into sitting position, and make sure to not play with the ends of my jeans as I so often do.
It was of course Jack who first noticed, we were laying in my bed the next Friday, sharing light kisses and 'studying' for biology when he saw the not so thin red lines. The feeling of his long fingers lightly tracing the lines sent shivers up my spine and caused my head to snap up from my way to large text-book.
“Lex...” he lightly whispers
I quickly pull my foot away and sit on top of it, “I'm sorry,” I choke out, not really knowing what to say.
“Don't be sorry to me... can I see?” Jack asks quietly. I can think of a hundred reasons why not but I still stand and pull of my red skinnies and proceed to lower the band of my jeans. Jack has never seen me completely naked seeing as we got a little uncomfortable before our shower the other day, both remembering the scars the other had yet to see, but I figure me and Jack are going on two months and while that didn't seem that long, this moment was bound to come eventually.
I watch as Jacks face drops at the sight of the fresh cuts and scars littering my body. Personally I never thought they were that bad, I've seen plenty worse on the internet, but picturing my skin copied and pasted on Jacks brakes my heart. Jack remains wordless for a few minutes, simply tracing the scars with a touch lighter than a moths wings.
“Can you promise me something if I promise the same?” Jack breaks the silence and I slowly nod my head, “If I try and get better you do too. I understand that sometimes you need to just feel the pain and that's okay but can we promise each other to never go too deep, and if we feel like it to just talk to the other. Because some of these are really deep Lex.”
I weigh my options for a moment before agreeing and sealing it with a quick, reassuring kiss. As far as I see it this isn't an agreement to stop. Its and agreement to not go to deep and that I can handle, plus knowing that Jack would be doing the same makes it worth it. The comment 'these are really deep' gives me a sick twisted since of pride that disgusts me, but still its there, the thought that I had the strength to push a blade into my own skin that hard is almost pleasing. Honestly how fucked up could I get.
“Your staying the night, and we're ordering Pizza,” I state, not giving Jack a option on the matter.
He simply chuckles slightly before agreeing with me and sitting back on the bed to finish his sheet of formulas.
**
Its about 10 hours later when I'm laying still awake, tangled in Jack's limbs and watching the clock flash the numbers 2:52 in the dark room. My mind is spinning and I know there's no way to stop it but my blade. I can't do that though, not with Jack here only hours after I promised I'd try and stop for him.
The thoughts are mainly self deprecating ones, centering around how truly fucked up I am. The sense of pride I felt earlier when Jack said my cuts were deep is sickening. I know that that is nothing to be proud of, but that did not stop the feeling from filling my chest. I wonder if there is another person in this world who thinks just like me. Surely there has to be, there's 7 billion people in this world and I'll be damned if at least one doesn't share my fucked up brain. 7 billion people so two must be the same, right? Genes can't possibly be that diverse and while your up bringing partially shape who you are, there's a part that is permanently etched into your brain at birth, something your parents give you. That's one thing I like to blame this on, maybe my demons are genetic, simply something that runs in the family, something I have no control over. Everyone has them, I guess some are stronger and some people are better at fighting them. I must be pretty shit, and I have a scar covered body to prove that, but is Jack too? Is he simply bad at controlling his thoughts or are his worse than mine? I would give anything to see inside that beautiful boys brain for just a moment. By this point my thoughts are spinning out of control and I really don't know what to do anymore. I have considered waking Jack up a few times, but couldn't bring my self to do it. However now I don't see many more options. It's either wake up the sleeping boy next to me or crawl from his grasp and slit my itching ankles. The second option seems simply deceitful and cruel, so I go or the first.
“Jacky, Jacky baby wake up,” I gently shake his shoulder, feeling incredibly guilty about pulling him from his slumber.
“Mmph hmm?” Jack mumbles into his pillow.
“I'm really really sorry but can we like watch a movie or something. I need to shut my brain up or I might do something...” I let Jack finish the sentence him self and he quickly becomes more awake.
“Yeah of course, anything,” he reaches out and brushes a piece of hair behind my ear and gives me a soft smile that I can just barely see in the soft moon light pouring through the window, successfully making me grin in return.
I get up and slide the Peter Pan disk into the DVD player on top of my television before returning to Jacks open arms, sitting on his lap and curling into his chest. I ball my hands up in Jacks shirt while softly taking in his scent. Jack always seemed to smell and taste like honey, I don't really know how or why, but he did and I liked it.
The movie does its job and I feel my thoughts start to slow, body ease back on its shaking and eyes begin to droop. The sound of Jack snoring softly above me it enough to rock me into a peaceful sleep.
I've become infatuated with slicing my ankles. Just the way the pale skin stretches over the bone is inciting, and seeing them bleed is sickly thrilling. I love the way they would continue to hurt with each step I take that day, and if I wanted more pain I could simply step a little harder. I loved the way they bleed and bleed because I seem to be able to cut deeper there. With this comes danger though. At any moment my slightly too small jeans can ride up when I sit down, or I can reach to itch my ankle only to come back with bloody finger nails. But I continue to do it. I wear boots or high tops on days where my jeans don't quite make the ends of my ankles when forced into sitting position, and make sure to not play with the ends of my jeans as I so often do.
It was of course Jack who first noticed, we were laying in my bed the next Friday, sharing light kisses and 'studying' for biology when he saw the not so thin red lines. The feeling of his long fingers lightly tracing the lines sent shivers up my spine and caused my head to snap up from my way to large text-book.
“Lex...” he lightly whispers
I quickly pull my foot away and sit on top of it, “I'm sorry,” I choke out, not really knowing what to say.
“Don't be sorry to me... can I see?” Jack asks quietly. I can think of a hundred reasons why not but I still stand and pull of my red skinnies and proceed to lower the band of my jeans. Jack has never seen me completely naked seeing as we got a little uncomfortable before our shower the other day, both remembering the scars the other had yet to see, but I figure me and Jack are going on two months and while that didn't seem that long, this moment was bound to come eventually.
I watch as Jacks face drops at the sight of the fresh cuts and scars littering my body. Personally I never thought they were that bad, I've seen plenty worse on the internet, but picturing my skin copied and pasted on Jacks brakes my heart. Jack remains wordless for a few minutes, simply tracing the scars with a touch lighter than a moths wings.
“Can you promise me something if I promise the same?” Jack breaks the silence and I slowly nod my head, “If I try and get better you do too. I understand that sometimes you need to just feel the pain and that's okay but can we promise each other to never go too deep, and if we feel like it to just talk to the other. Because some of these are really deep Lex.”
I weigh my options for a moment before agreeing and sealing it with a quick, reassuring kiss. As far as I see it this isn't an agreement to stop. Its and agreement to not go to deep and that I can handle, plus knowing that Jack would be doing the same makes it worth it. The comment 'these are really deep' gives me a sick twisted since of pride that disgusts me, but still its there, the thought that I had the strength to push a blade into my own skin that hard is almost pleasing. Honestly how fucked up could I get.
“Your staying the night, and we're ordering Pizza,” I state, not giving Jack a option on the matter.
He simply chuckles slightly before agreeing with me and sitting back on the bed to finish his sheet of formulas.
**
Its about 10 hours later when I'm laying still awake, tangled in Jack's limbs and watching the clock flash the numbers 2:52 in the dark room. My mind is spinning and I know there's no way to stop it but my blade. I can't do that though, not with Jack here only hours after I promised I'd try and stop for him.
The thoughts are mainly self deprecating ones, centering around how truly fucked up I am. The sense of pride I felt earlier when Jack said my cuts were deep is sickening. I know that that is nothing to be proud of, but that did not stop the feeling from filling my chest. I wonder if there is another person in this world who thinks just like me. Surely there has to be, there's 7 billion people in this world and I'll be damned if at least one doesn't share my fucked up brain. 7 billion people so two must be the same, right? Genes can't possibly be that diverse and while your up bringing partially shape who you are, there's a part that is permanently etched into your brain at birth, something your parents give you. That's one thing I like to blame this on, maybe my demons are genetic, simply something that runs in the family, something I have no control over. Everyone has them, I guess some are stronger and some people are better at fighting them. I must be pretty shit, and I have a scar covered body to prove that, but is Jack too? Is he simply bad at controlling his thoughts or are his worse than mine? I would give anything to see inside that beautiful boys brain for just a moment. By this point my thoughts are spinning out of control and I really don't know what to do anymore. I have considered waking Jack up a few times, but couldn't bring my self to do it. However now I don't see many more options. It's either wake up the sleeping boy next to me or crawl from his grasp and slit my itching ankles. The second option seems simply deceitful and cruel, so I go or the first.
“Jacky, Jacky baby wake up,” I gently shake his shoulder, feeling incredibly guilty about pulling him from his slumber.
“Mmph hmm?” Jack mumbles into his pillow.
“I'm really really sorry but can we like watch a movie or something. I need to shut my brain up or I might do something...” I let Jack finish the sentence him self and he quickly becomes more awake.
“Yeah of course, anything,” he reaches out and brushes a piece of hair behind my ear and gives me a soft smile that I can just barely see in the soft moon light pouring through the window, successfully making me grin in return.
I get up and slide the Peter Pan disk into the DVD player on top of my television before returning to Jacks open arms, sitting on his lap and curling into his chest. I ball my hands up in Jacks shirt while softly taking in his scent. Jack always seemed to smell and taste like honey, I don't really know how or why, but he did and I liked it.
The movie does its job and I feel my thoughts start to slow, body ease back on its shaking and eyes begin to droop. The sound of Jack snoring softly above me it enough to rock me into a peaceful sleep.
Notes
I don't have much to say about his chapter....
HOWEVER i did post a Jalex one shot last night so if you wanted to read that, that would be amazing
~As always thank you so much for reading and all that jazz. Comments are always appreciated <3 I love you guys~
@emilygrace0516
Welcome love <3
4/26/14