Silence - Chapter One

Chapter One

“I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.” ― Ned Vizzini

I struggle to open my eyes. Th bright sunlight is visible through my closed eyelids. I manage to open them, and glance at my clock. 7 AM on May 1. One week even. One week until this all ends. Just one week. One week.

I smile to myself when I think about ending the pain. The pain of the words. And all it takes is a few pills. I get up hazily, and stumble over to my closet. Rubbing my eyes violently with my fists, I open the doors, and start sorting through the long sleeved shirts and jeans.

I pull out a pair of jeans and throw them on my bed. A dark blue shirt follows. Silently, I slip off my sleep shirt, and pull the other one on. I grasp the end of the sleeves in my palms, pulling the shoulders down a bit.

Slipping on the jeans, the words come back to me again.

"Cute jeans. Where're they from? Goodwill?" The menacing giggles follow the phrase, just like it had happened.

"Where'd you get that shirt? The fat people store?" More cruel laughter. I start to shake as the tears come streaming down my face.

"Oh, poor little Marie. Oops, you're not little. You're fat." I sink to the floor, hugging my chest. The tears are coming steadily now. My hands itched for my blade.

"Know why she's so smart? Because she's too lazy to walk, so she just sits and reads." I bite the inside of my cheek, the following pain making me gasp. The taste of metal awakes my body, but not my mind.

The whispers. "I broke up with her because she's so fat. I don't know why I dated her in the first place." The tears still trailed down my face. I was shaking violently.

"She never wears shorts because she doesn't want to show her ugly thighs."

"Shh, Marie, it's alright. Marie, it's okay. Please stop crying." I stop abruptly and make a squeaking noise. And then I begin sobbing again. My hands find their ways underneath my bed, reaching for the blade. I pull it out with a swift moment.

One, two, four times. Four new cuts. The blood trickles down into the crook of my elbow, but the pain doesn't stop the memory from repeating.

Shh, Marie, it's alright. Marie, it's okay. Please stop crying.

The memory flashes into the vision like a movie.

"Shh, Marie, it's alright. Marie, it's okay. Please stop crying." His arms encircle me, his scent lingering in the air. My arms find my way around him, and I bury my face in his neck."Shh," He strokes my hair. I reach up and pull his hand down, and bring my face up to face his, sniffling.

"You have seven new cuts." I say, dumbfounded. He looks at me with those big, green eyes. and whispers two words.

"I know."

The pain finally shoots me back to reality, the red liquid dripping onto my carpet. My salty tears are making their way into the burning cuts. I get up, and walk over to my bathroom. Placing my wrist above the sink, I pour alcohol in it. I wince, but let the bloody alcohol continue making its way down the drain.

Hiccuping, I get a bandage with my useful hand, and lay it on top of the new cuts. And then I leave the bathroom, with a tear streaked face, empty of makeup, ready to enter my nightmare.