Why do you do it? *story part 2*

They kept changing, one to the other. I could feel tears surfacing to my eyes, but I still would not open my eyes. I felt a tear squeeze through and run down my cheek and into the small curve of the side of my mouth. I could taste the warm saltiness which brought me comfort in a strange way. I could feel more tears following the trail of the first tear, but I never wiped them away, I just let them run down the trail following one after another.

“I do not understand”
“You are just feeling sorry for yourself”
“You have no reason to”
“Look at you, and you wonder why you are alone”
“There are people in worse conditions than you”
“You can not get anything right”
“There are people who have been through worse, seen worse”
“They do not like you or want you”
“You have no reason to do it; people love you and care for you”
“They do not care, they lie to you”
“Only sick and twisted people do it”
“Attention seeker”
“Only sick and twisted people do it”
“Attention seeker”
“Only sick and twisted…”

“SHUT UP!” I screamed reaching next to me, finding what I was looking for, what I needed. They fit perfectly in my hand, the familiarity of holding them, opening them up. I felt the cold metal of the blade touch my skin, bringing me more comfort than that single tear beforehand. The familiarity of the weight of the scissors in my hand and the touch of the blade made me feel so safe, secure, like nothing could touch me or hurt me again. I had felt these things before and they had brought me the same comfort just like they were doing now, and would carry on doing. It was then I felt the sharp tinge of pain, but I never opened my eyes up once. The physical pain overrode the emotional pain; finally I had real pain to focus on, to make me forget about all my other pains. All my stress worries, anxieties had escaped from me, they had gone. For that split second I felt calm, like nothing mattered like everything had drained from me and I felt nothing. Finally it all had a place to escape out of me.

I slowly opened my eyes, the tears had stopped but my vision was still blurry from the reminiscence of a few left over tears that had not fallen. I still kept my head lowered, staring at that one same point as before, scared to look up and meet their judging eyes. Though there was something different, something felt different. I wanted to keep my eyes on the floor but the suspense was killing me. Everything was so quiet again. Had they gone? Was I finally alone? Should I look up should
I not look up? More silence. Silence followed silence. I could not pre-long it any longer. I had to look up…

I was alone. I was sitting on my bed by myself. It was just me in this room.
Nobody was with me. I realised nobody had been in the first place. It had always been just me. Me and my conscience.