Scars that Show

This story is not about me. Actually in this story I am Lexy.


Scars that Show

The pain felt like a live wire on my wrist. What didn’t help was my salty tears dripping down my face on to my pale arm. The razor in my right hand slashed my left wrist again. I grunted in pain as the sharp edge cut through my thin skin.
It was about one in the morning. Failure to sleep had caused me to reminiscence in what happened to me today.
Earlier that day, my mom screamed at me before I could get on the bus and to safety.
“Stupid! You forgot a dish last night. How you’re going to amount to anything when you can get out of this house is beside me!” she yelled in face as I pulled on my sweater, covering my pink t-shirt that I had thrown on while mother kept yelling at me through my bedroom door.
My stepfather just stood there and watched as I began to cry.
“Oh and that little low-life floozy had better leave you alone today. You know what she’s going to amount to? Nothing, that’s what. She and her loser of a boyfriend are going to amount of living in the trailer park and on the Jerry Springer show! Do you want to end up like then Valarie? Well that where you’re heading if you hang out with those low-lives!” He yelled as my mother nodded in approval.
Lexy is nothing like that you stupid people, I thought in my head as I walked outside and to my bus stop.
I got on the bus and sat next to my best friend. She had only moved here during April of last year, but she adjusted pretty well, if by well you mean her perfect boyfriend, her awesome friends in her old town, and parents that treated me like family whenever I came over.
She was pretty. Her brownish blonde hair that was always perfect, her green eyes that glimmered even in the darkest light. That was just her face.
“Hey,” she brightly said as I sat down next to her.
I smiled as if I wasn’t in pain.
“Hi, what you listening to?” I asked her.
“Nickleback,” she answered.
She always had her MP3 player on when she was on the bus. Her music blasting so I could make out the words, I turned my attention to a book. After a while she turned to me.
“Let me see,” she said in a stern fashion.
Ah crap, she knew something was up.
“See what, the book?” I innocently asked.
“No,” she replied.
Then she grabbed my left wrist where my fresh cuts had only begun to heal.
I yelped in pain.
Her eyes widened as she realized that only one thing could make me yelp in pain just by grabbing my left wrist.
She growled and peeled the left sleeve of my sweater back to reveal my cuts from the previous night.
“Lexy, I had no choice,” I quietly told her as she examined my wrist.
“Bull. However you went too deep this time. Another millimeter and its hello hospital,” she said, obviously annoyed with me.
“How did you know that I did it?” I asked her.
“I noticed your pattern. When you don’t cut you’re bright and bubbly. When you do cut you are quiet and keep to yourself. Kind of like what I did when I did it,” Lexy explained as she put my sleeve back over my wrist.
A former cutter herself, Lexy always knows when I had cut. She even went as far to slap my wrist whenever I did it. The only reason she stopped was because her boyfriend threatened to end the relationship. He dumps her and it back to the razor. Huh, like that would ever happen, almost a year and they are still attached at the waist.
“Sara is going to kill me,” I moaned as Lexy put her MP3 player away.
On top of being a cutter, I am also bisexual. Sara was my new crush but also my friend. Her opinion meant a lot to me and ever since I began cutting, she had been very angry with me.
I caught Lexy rolling her eyes at me.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” I quietly pleaded.
“I can’t because I used to do it, but I can say that if you continue and advertise it like you do…eventually you are going to get caught,” Lexy said as she grabbed her bag and prepared to get off of the bus.
That’s how she always was. Before her boyfriend became a major influence, my problem became her problem. It was supremely unhealthy because then she would get stressed and then take it out on Jace. But now all she did was give advice and not get too involved with things. Don’t get me wrong, Jace was a good guy, but sometimes, like now, he was a little too influential on her. I guess that the price you have to pay for love, something I will never truly know.
True, I have dated guys and girls in the past, but they never lasted and after we broke up they treated me as if I didn’t exist. It really hurt when one of my ex-girlfriends started saying I have diseases and all of this stuff just because we broke up.
The bus pulled up next to the high school. A dark cloud was above it, as if foretelling what was to come.
Lexy got off before me, entered the school but was immediately whisked away by Jace to her locker as I went over to the cafeteria, by Sara.
She was talking to another one of my friends, Judy. Sara, like Lexy, looked unbelievably pretty today. Her long brown hair was slightly curled and her usual gold make up on her eyelids looked like it came our of a magazine. She wore a black sweater covering a pretty neon green tang-top. She had a pretty black necklace that hung right over her bosom attracting the wandering eye to them. Her pants were denim blue with slight rips in them, her Air walks looked brand-new, although she had them for almost a month.
Judy, on the other hand, had a beautiful blue t-shirt on that was low cut. Her jeans looked like they were made from the eighties with their huge flare at the bottom. She had a gold necklace with slight aquamarine jewels in the heart shaped pendant. Her wild black hair with blue streaks was in a ponytail. Her black eyeliner, shaped perfectly underneath her blue eyes, looked like it was done by a professional make-up artist.
“Hey Valarie,” Sara happily said.
“You’re going to kill me,” I quietly replied to her.
Her beautiful face fell as she quickly realized why I had said it.
She sighed and dragged me to the bathroom. As soon as we got inside she made me take off my sweater. She grabbed my left wrist to see the damage done.
“Jesus Christ, Valarie!” she exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, I had no one to talk to and it just…bottles up,” I explained as Sara examined my wrist.
“You went too deep,” Sara observed.
“That’s what Lexy said,” I replied.
I looked up at the ceiling, awaiting my lecture.
“You know what, I can’t deal with this right now,” Sara sadly said as she started walking backwards.
“Sara please,” I pleaded with her.
“No, don’t. I thought you made a promise to me that you wouldn’t do this anymore, but I guess that doesn’t matter,” she said as her eyes welled with tears and she threw my sweater at me. I caught it and hastily put on as a teacher came in.
I walked to my first hour in a daze. Lexy’s words rang in my head as if they were embedded into my conscience.
Eventually you’re going to get caught.
I wrote Sara a note in first hour while the teacher droned on and on. My cuts still ached from Lexy griping them so hard.
Good thing Sara didn’t see the one on my right upper arm, I thought.
I decided to tell her in the note about that one.
I don’t exactly know why I do cut. I feel like sometimes it’s so hard to talk to someone who doesn’t live your life, someone who doesn’t know what it feels like to be you. Even my own parents don’t know what they put me through when they yell at me and call me those names that seem to cut me deeper than the sharpest razor. I guess sometimes someone who cares about me could look into my mind and see what I go through everyday.
Even though she was my best friend, Lexy didn’t have any sympathy for me for what I do to myself. She just didn’t have the same thought process as mostly everybody did and that made her seem rather cold at things like cutting. Sara, on the other hand, was kind of sympathetic once she stopped being angry at me for cutting myself.
I guess Lexy wasn’t so sympathetic because no one, especially Jace, was sympathetic towards her when she did it. However, they let her do it because eventually she would learn to stop, with some help from Jace of course.
The bell rang for first hour to be over. I walked out of the classroom, ran to my locker, and then made my way to second hour, which was right next to Sara and Lexy’s class. There Sara, Lexy, and Jace were all talking. I got a good look at Jace without noticing.
For being only a junior in high school, Jace had the physique of a big burly Marine. He had brown buzz cut hair, deep brown eyes that would remind any girl of melted chocolate, the body of a god, and muscles everywhere on him. Jace was about a head and a half taller than Lexy. The only downside to him was that he was going to go into the military and Lexy hated that idea.
Just like most cute guys, Jace barely noticed me as I handed Sara, who had her arms wrapped around Lexy’s waist, her note and ducked into my classroom.
Second hour flew by like I was in a fog. I barely heard what the teacher was saying and cared less if I understood it or not. Then the bell rang and I walked out to see Sara handing me a note. I grabbed it and walked to my third hour.
I read Sara’s note which involved me crying while she practically yelled at me for cutting and saying that I need some counseling. The teacher barely noticed me crying while she taught then, the phone rang.
“Hello? Yes-yes she’s here. Right now? Okay, okay, bye-bye. Valarie the school officer needs to see you,” the teacher said as she hung up.
“Should I take my stuff?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
I grabbed my books and walked down to the school officer’s office. What was wrong? Did something happen to my parents? Brother? As if they were trying to tell me something, my cuts powerfully stung, making me almost drop my books.
Oh, no someone told, my mind screamed.
I paused on the stairs, deciding whether to continue down the stairs or go back to class. After a moment I continued down the stairs. Just get this over with.
I pulled the door to Officer Randall’s office and saw him patiently waiting for me, sitting behind his desk.
“Ah, Valarie, please take a seat,” he warmly said.
I cautiously sat down in front of his desk.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Well, Valarie, it seems that two friends of yours came in today deeply concerned about you. Can you tell me why they were concerned?” Randall asked me.
“N-No,” I stammered.
“Hmm, well, they came in today saying that you, ah, have been cutting yourself,” he calmly explained.
I gasped in fright.
“B-But I”
“Valarie, I need you to take off your sweater,” he told me.
I gave him a look and took off my sweater.
He examined my wrists and my upper arm. He made a careful note of where each one was. He carefully replaced my t-shirt sleeve to it original position. Once he was finished, he sighed and looked at me.
“Valarie, I wish this could go by unnoticed, but I’m afraid I have to call Social Services and your parents,” he sadly told me.
“No!” I moaned and began to cry.
“Valarie, I have to, it’s the law!” he exclaimed.
“But you don’t-“
“Valarie, it is out of my hands. Also you will be given a mental evaluation sometime this week,” he added as I began protest again.
“My parents-“
“You will be given a social worker and they will come to your house for an inspection,” he explained.
Tears continued to roll down my cheeks.
“Yes, sir,” I sadly said.
Eventually you’re going to get caught.
Later at lunch, Judy and Sharon came up to me.
“Sorry Valarie, but we had to tell. You’re spiraling downward and its not healthy. We had no choice,” Sharon sadly said.
“YOU TOLD!” I yelled.
“Yes we did, you need help,” Judy sternly said.
I began crying again. My friends, two people I trusted, had betrayed.
On the bus home, I told Lexy.
“So they just went and turned you in?” she demanded.
“Sharon and Judy? Yeah,” I sadly said.
She huffed in anger.
“Idiots, what were they thinking? What, they didn’t know what was going to happen?” she said more to herself.
I nodded and looked out the window of the bus.
That night, my family practically disowned me.
So now, the blood drips from my wrist as I packed my bags, for in three days, I would be put into foster care.
Lexy’s words still ring in my ears to this very day.
Eventually, you’re going to get caught.