He puts it to his wrist. A tingling sensation runs through to his elbow. He puts pressure on the blade. Blood seeps through, turning bright red once touched by the sympathetic air. He lets out a deep breath, a sigh of relief. Ahh.. Much better, he thinks as he closes his eyes and leans back against the purest of white walls. A light smile rests upon his lips. The blood starts to run, following the creases of his palm. It flows down to his pinky, building into a bold bubble. He’s in a laid back position, with his arms over his knees, hands dangling above his bare feet. It seems like time stops for a moment, much like it does in the movies when a faucet leaks, and he opens his eyes to watch the drop drip down. It hits his toes with a thud. Once splashed in place, the clock picks back up and he realizes he should move before it gets on the carpet. He mops up the blood globule with his index finger. He gets up to crack open the window, then sets out to obtain a towel. As he walks away from the window, the air, once forgiving, strikes back as it catches his open wound, making it feel like a deep paper cut, the kind that’s never expected. It was so sudden that he gasped and grasped his wrist, making the pain worse. His attention was so focused on the situation that he didn’t see the object on the floor that intended on making him trip. He seemed to realize it though, just as his foot was upon the object, and stumbled over it, catching his balance on the sink. He pulls himself up, grabbing a glance at his reflection in the mirror. Anger shoots through him faster than the blood rushed to his open flesh to start the healing process. The scars were just so, so disgusting! So disturbing! There was no way that anybody could love someone who looked like that. Every mirror or reflective entity was gone in this house, that is, besides this one. He thought that, if ever a quest would come over, they would like to have one in order to fix themselves up when using the restroom. He is a kind, considerate person like that.. he scuffs.. but no one would ever look past my scars…
1980: Age 13. Day: the 7th of November. His birthday. Samuel’s birthday. Oh, Samuel, Oh Sam… everyone kept saying.. Now you’re a teenager! You’re growing up so fast! You’re going to be moving out before we know it!.. so many comments directed towards him he didn’t really care to hear. But that was okay, he was excited. A big toothy smile filled his face from ear to ear. Nothing would bother him today.. nothing could. He was surrounded by so many friends. It was nearing 4:00pm, when all his friends would leave. The party had start at 11:00am; they had gone bowling and ice skating. It had been a lot of fun. Friday’s were the only day the rink was open 1-3:30pm. Now, all Sam’s friends were gathering all their coats and whatnot, as the grandfather clock rang out four times. The clock was a little fast, but already a couple of the boy’s parents were here to pick them up.
“Bye Chris!”
“Bye Sam!” Chris responded as he walked out the door. Two minutes passed..
“See ya Andrew.”
“See ya Sam!” and he left as well. One by one the children started to leave. Pretty soon, at eleven past four, the last kid left. It happened to be Sam’s best friend. They hugged.
“Bye Sam.” She said.
“Bye Samantha.” He replied. They had been hanging outside on the swing set so he went back inside. Already, more of his family had showed up; his Aunt Sally, and her husband Jack, and his grandma. In the next hour, a couple of his older and younger cousins came as well as the one cousin his age. His name was Kevin. A couple more aunts and uncles, one grandfather. Not everyone from his family came though. Some had moved out of state or were on vacation for a while. Some just couldn’t make it. But there were so many people since it was such an important birthday, and this was to be very unfortunate…
No comments:
Post a Comment