Drowning

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “Yeah, it’s kinda… just… I don’t know.”

  “Bad boy Tobias has got a temper,” Chloe adds. “But so does Jared.”

  “It’s a misunderstanding, nothing more,” I quickly respond in an attempt to defuse whatever they’re thinking.

  “You sure about that? ‘Cause from where we were sitting, it looked more like a love triangle.” Katie makes a circular gesture with her finger toward me, where Tobias and Jared were sitting.

  “You do know Jared’s gay?” It’s a rhetorical question. Of course, they know.

  “Maybe he was trying to get into Tobias’s pants too. I mean, Tobias is super cute. Pity about that temper of his though,” Chloe says.

  “He wasn’t trying to do anything. Honestly…” Ugh, these two are making me angry.

  “Tobias is cute,” Katie says. “Like… super cute.”

  Disinterested, I pick up my salad and stand. “Sorry ladies, I’ve gotta return a book to the library,” I lie. I’m trying to get out of here before I snap at them and say something I’ll likely regret.

  “Later,” Chloe calls before she turns to talk to Katie.

  Heading out of the cafeteria, I stop off at my locker. I don’t want to spend the rest of the day here with Tobias and Jared. We’ve got classes together after lunch and the last thing I want is to be caught in the middle of those two fighting. Or worse still, Jared thinking I’m picking Tobias over him. Or vice versa.

  Ugh.

  This is seriously screwed.

  Grabbing my stuff out of my locker, I head out the front door of the school and try to get home before anyone sees me.

  Dad will be at work, so I know he won’t say anything to me. I suppose I’ll pretend I’m sick if anyone asks.

  I am kind of sick.

  Sick of whatever happened.

  I high-tail it out of there. I get to the bus stop and wait for the next bus to arrive. Checking the time on my phone, I know it’ll arrive within a few minutes.

  A text comes through from Tobias, but I choose to ignore it.

  I can’t deal with this right now.

  As I slide my phone into my back pocket, it starts vibrating.

  Checking it, I see Tobias is calling me. As he’s calling me, Jared’s call comes through too.

  Ugh.

  I’m so not ready to talk to either of them at this moment. I want them both to leave me alone.

  Ivy.

  Sitting on the edge of the curb, I draw my legs up to my chest and lower my head so no one can see my face. This is seriously screwed up. I hate feeling like I’m in the middle of their disagreement.

  Suddenly my heart skips a beat. Frustration and anger flow through me. Did I cause this argument? Am I to blame for what happened? Is it because I didn’t say anything? Or did I say something to make it worse?

  Ivy.

  Stop it! Stop pretending you’re here for me! I hate you.

  Ivy.

  There’s a slight rumble beneath my feet, and I look up in time to see the bus approaching. Standing from the curb, I step back and wait for the doors to open. This time of day, I notice there are only a few people.

  I need to stay away from everyone.

  My demon has temporarily gone into hiding, and has stopped calling me.

  But he’s woven himself into my soul so intricately, that there’s nowhere I can go to hide from him.

  He’ll find me.

  Wherever I go, he’ll find me.

  The bus ride home is quick, because I spend the entire time concentrating on controlling how I feel so Azael doesn’t show up now.

  The moment I get home, I head straight to my bathroom.

  The urge is there. It’s strong, but I fight with myself.

  Ivy. He’s back and he’s stronger than ever.

  Standing in front of the mirror, my eyes can’t leave the girl reflected there.

  “No,” I say in a small voice. “Fight it.”

  Ivy. You know what you need to do.

  My heart rate spikes as my eyes leave the face in the mirror and look at the bottom drawer.

  This is what you need.

  Tears prickle my eyes. “No,” I whisper in a small voice.

  I can help you feel better.

  I fight with my demon. My resistance is growing stronger until he speaks my name in a way that crumbles my willpower.

  Ivy, let me take your pain.

  My gaze leaves the bottom drawer, and slowly reaches the girl who’s standing opposite me. She looks so sad, so broken. Tears run down her face. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are red. “Stay strong,” I whisper, begging her to hold on.

  She looks at me with such sorrow, my heart breaks for her. She’s struggling. She wants to reach for the one thing she thinks she needs.

  “Don’t,” I try to change her mind.

  “I have to,” she replies. Her voice is laced with anguish and hopelessness. “He’s the only one who understands.”

  “No, he’s not. I can help you.”

  More tears fall from her. She turns her head so her eyes can’t look at me.

  Take the blade and put it against your skin.

  The blade is in my hand. How did it get there? Did I take it out of its pouch? My hands shake as the cool metal touches the skin on my hip.

  When did I take my jeans off?

  God, it feels so good.

  Do it, Ivy. Press.

  No, fight it. This is wrong.

  It feels so good. Just one more time, one more small cut. You can stop after this one.

  No. No more. I can’t do this again.

  It’s your fault Tobias and Jared fought.

  I press the blade into my skin. It feels so good. I hold my breath, but my hands are shaking. I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t cut.

  Tobias hates you.

  I press the blade further into my skin. A small trickle of red escapes the blade and trickles down my leg.

  Jared is disappointed in you. You chose Tobias over your best friend.

  “No,” I cry. “I didn’t.”

  It’s because of you they hate each other.

  Hot tears cascade down my cheeks. “No,” I sob.

  You’ve let them down.

  An ugly wail tears through me. “I’m sorry,” I yell with a heavy heart. “I’m so sorry.”

  The blade drags through my skin. Deep, rich, red blood flows out of the neat cut.

  Good girl, Ivy. You’ve made me proud.

  I stumble back until my calves find the bathtub, where I slide down and collapse to the floor.

  He’s gone.

  He’s not here. I can’t feel him.

  I turn my head to see what I’ve done to myself. The metal razor drops from my hand with a distinct clank as it lands on the tiled floor. “Shit,” I grumble as I look at the cut.

  I’m grateful it’s not too deep. But the blood is dripping off my thigh to the floor. It’s not streaming, but it definitely needs attention.

  I’m mesmerized by the blood pooling on the floor. It’s a small splash on the ground, but it’s growing with each drip. “So pretty,” I whisper as I watch the splendid wine color thicken with every drop. Running my finger through it, I lift it to my eyes so I can examine the texture. “Pretty,” I repeat.

  My body hazes over with an overwhelming feeling of contentment. Calmness floods every part of me.

  I’m filled with a happy peace.

  Lying on the cold floor, my body hums with exhilaration.

  Closing my eyes, I let my body relax.

  As I lay here with my eyes closed and my body satisfied, something niggles deep down inside of me.

  Something I know I should be paying attention to.

  It’s not right. This isn’t right. This isn’t normal.

  There’s something very wrong with me. I shouldn’t find happiness when I cut.

  I’m not normal.

  My eyes spring open, as a cold hand of reality slaps me hard. It closes around my throat and begins to choke the ai
r out of me.

  Sobbing I try to sit up.

  Ivy.

  Shit, he’s back… already.

  I won.

  I mean I won that round with Azael. He tried to take me under again, but I fought him and told him to leave. I didn’t want to cut myself again. I’m proud of myself for that one act of defiance.

  My stomach roils with uncertainty as I eat breakfast. I hate feeling like this. Like I’m waiting for him to spring out and try to take me under again. I don’t want to go to school today. Nothing good can come of it.

  Both Tobias and Jared have been calling and texting me since yesterday. But I don’t want to talk to them. I’ve made a mess out of this, and I’m not ready to hear them tell me how disappointed they are in me.

  I should’ve stopped Tobias.

  I should’ve stuck up for Jared.

  I should’ve… I don’t know, I should’ve done or said something to make things better. But I didn’t. Instead, I sat there and let Tobias react the way he did toward my best friend.

  Images flash in my mind. The way he switched from carefree to angry. How his fingers tenderly rubbed over his tattoo. The faraway gleam in his eye, as if he was being transported to another time.

  Finishing my breakfast, I try to push those images out of my head. I hated how they fought over something so trivial. But then again, maybe Jared shouldn’t have said what he did.

  Ugh.

  I don’t know.

  The one thing I do know is that school’s going to be uncomfortable today.

  Take the blade with you.

  “Go away,” I say to no one. Thankfully Dad’s on the early shift today or I’d have to try to have this argument with him silently.

  It’ll make you feel better if you know you have it.

  “I hate you. Leave me alone.” I take my bowl into the kitchen trying to get away from him.

  But I can never escape him.

  Shoving him as far down as I possibly can, I try and focus on what’s going to happen today. I have to concentrate on the outcome of the whole Tobias and Jared situation.

  Ugh.

  Grabbing my bag, I leave the house and head toward the bus stop. I fight with my anxiety while I wait. A huge part of me wants to go home and hide. But another part tells me not to be afraid and to tackle this head on.

  The bus arrives, and when I find a seat, I stick my headphones in and turn some music on. It drowns out the noise in my head. The song lifts the fog from my exhausted mind.

  I hate letting anyone down, or being the cause of an argument.

  Logically I know I wasn’t the cause, but I also know I did nothing to help it either.

  Should’ve taken the blade, he taunts me.

  Closing my eyes tight, I tell him to leave me alone. The blade is not the answer. Not today. Not yet.

  The bus jerks to a stop, and I open my eyes to see I’m at school. Nearly everyone climbs off, and I wait ’til I’m the last one left on the bus, straggling behind the crowd. Hopefully I’ll get lost in the masses and Tobias and Jared won’t be looking for me.

  No luck.

  “Ivy,” they both echo while walking up to me.

  I look at them both and scrunch my brows together. Neither appears angry with the other. They are approaching me together.

  Lowering my head, I try to move ahead without stopping. But Tobias reaches out and grabs my upper arm. “I tried calling you and texting you,” he says as if I should owe it to him to respond.

  “What happened to you?” Jared asks.

  They stand shoulder to shoulder, as if they’re best friends. My gaze travels between them, and I feel like screaming.

  “Say something,” Tobias says. “Anything.”

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I shake my head and open my mouth, ready to tell him off. But I close it again and try to walk away.

  “Hey, we don’t do this, Ivy. We’ve never walked away from each other,” Jared positions himself in front of me so I can’t leave.

  Stepping back, I make sure there is distance between me and them. “So, you both make me feel like shit and now you’re all buddy-buddy?” Jutting my hip out, I stick my hand on it, angry.

  “It was a misunderstanding,” Tobias says as he steps forward. I counter his step by moving backward. I don’t want him close to me. My jeans rub painfully against the Band-Aid on my thigh, and it reminds me exactly what I’ve gone through because of them.

  “Misunderstanding?” I question. Jared’s nodding, with his stupid ‘don’t be mad at me’ smile. “You stormed off,” I say looking at Tobias. “And you…” I point at Jared. “You made me feel like the whole thing was my fault.”

  “I’m sorry, Ivy,” Jared quickly apologizes and drops his head so he’s looking at his feet.

  “I’m sorry too,” Tobias adds. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. It’s just…” He looks past me, and not at me. Pursing his lips together, he furrows his brows. “I overacted.”

  “You don’t say,” I bark at him. “You two are worse than chicks. The temper tantrums are enough to make me want to stay away from both of you.” I point between them.

  “We’re sorry,” Tobias says again.

  Breathing out, I step closer to them. “Next time you two have a disagreement, don’t involve me.”

  “I promise not to ask him for a ride,” Jared jokingly says as he hooks his thumb toward Tobias.

  Tobias’s mouth is pulled tight; his features tense. The look in his eyes betrays anger. He tightens his hands into fists, but sees my reaction to him and he loosens them. Something is going on with him, something he’s not willing to share.

  The bell sounds and Jared animatedly chats about the crap night he had.

  Tobias moves forward and slides my bag off my shoulder and onto his.

  Huh, who would’ve thought chivalry is still alive. He leans into me, his warm breath touching my ear. “Sorry,” he whispers. This is heartfelt and real. It’s not said for the hell of saying it. He means every one of those five letters.

  Turning, I give him a genuine smile and a small nod. It’s my way of accepting his apology.

  Heading into the bathroom, I lock myself in the stall and pull my jeans down. I noticed during my last class that a bit of blood has seeped through my jeans. It was only a few drops, but it’s enough for me to notice.

  Which means if I notice, then eventually someone else may notice too.

  The Band-Aid has mostly come off, and there’s some dried blood on my thigh. “Ugh,” I grumble as I open my bag and get my emergency Band-Aids and dressings I keep packed in my purse. I was caught by Dad once before. He asked me why I had blood on the thigh of my jeans. I thought the wound had stopped bleeding, but it turned out my jeans rubbed against it and re-opened it. Since then, I’m sure to carry Band-Aids, butterfly strips, antibiotic ointment, and other first-aid supplies with me.

  I’m also learning the more times I cut in the same spot, the skin takes longer and longer to heal. Thankfully I’m the only one to do the laundry at home. Dad would suspect something if he was to do the laundry, and I don’t want him to know. It would kill me if he knew. He’d think there’s something wrong with me. He’d judge me.

  Hell, I know I’m messed up and spinning around in circles, but cutting quiets the demon down. If only for a little while, he stays quiet.

  Cleaning up last night’s cut, I re-dress it and stare at it. Beside it is a thicker line, one I’ve cut many times, but can’t cut again because I know it won’t heal properly. My thighs are a cluster of mismatched, straight lines. Thick, thin, long, and short scars. The markings are obviously deliberate; anyone can see that. But they’re also beautiful. And scary. And hypnotic.

  I shouldn’t cut. It’s not healthy… it’s not right. The logical part of my brain knows this isn’t how I should be living.

  But Azael is always around. He feeds off my anxieties. When I’m sad, he’s there. When I’m anxious, he’s there. He’s there all the time. The only time I can get
rid of him is when I’ve cut and he tries to come back straight after. When I manage to fight him off, he stays away until the next time he picks up on my emotions and comes back stronger.

  Looking at my leg, I can’t help but feel guilty and ashamed.

  Tears fill my eyes. My finger tenderly runs over the butterfly strips as the memory of the blade invades my thoughts.

  “You have to stop,” I murmur to myself, but hope he hears me.

  Who am I kidding? He doesn’t listen to me. He does whatever he wants.

  God, I feel so alone.

  Taking a deep breath and wiping the tears from my eyes, I choose to fight past this. Standing, I pull my jeans up, being very careful to make sure I don’t drag the strips away from the wound.

  I’m alone in the bathroom, which gives me some time to try and wash the blood out of my jeans. Standing by the sink, I lift my leg, balancing on the other one. I pour some water in my hand and throw it over the blood drops on my jeans. Rubbing at the wet fabric, I get most of the blood out. But now, I’m left with a wet spot.

  Ugh. Great. I didn’t think that through properly. Get your head in the game, Ivy, I silently scold myself. I’m such an idiot. I think I better start wearing dark jeans after I cut. That way if blood seeps through, it’ll be harder to see.

  Or, I could stop cutting.

  I wish.

  “Hey,” Chloe chimes happily at lunch. She sits beside Jared and smiles at us.

  “Hey,” Tobias responds for us as Jared bites into his burger and I chew on some grapes.

  “So, I’m having a party on Saturday.”

  The moment Chloe says the words, I cringe. I don’t want to be around people. I hate being in an environment where people may see my scars. Not because I’ll be wearing anything revealing, but because maybe they’ll accidently feel them. People brushing up against each other, touching… ugh. My personal worst nightmare.

  “You okay?” Tobias asks me.

  “Yeah, fine. Why?” I continue eating, trying not to show how paranoid and anxious Chloe’s statement has made me.

  “You’ve gone white.” He reaches up and moves his hand as if he’s going to touch my face. Automatically I flinch away.

  Tobias quickly withdraws his hand. His forehead crinkles in question. “I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he says in a low voice.