Why
an I still bothered about this case, I've been cleared of all charges but being
free doesn't make me clean, my therapist says it's all in my head but nobody
gets it not even him. Tracing my steps I head to the bathroom and reached out
under my sink where I keep all my blades
"I could get an infection with this"
"or worse"
They
were all broken, rusty brown and dirty. I walked toward the kitchen, dipping my
hands into the trash can, searching for anything sharp enough to cleanse me
"There you are"
He
said with a smile when he touched a broken mirror, he rinsed it ready to get
to work, climbing into his bathtub he
did his routine breathing before pulling his trousers off, closing his eyes he
tore with the mirror right from his hips down to his knees, he inhaled with a
familiar smile, he felt relaxed, relieved even. He was right, this was what he
needed to chase the voices in his head.
"God, I feel so clean" He inhaled again
as he watched the blood flow, he placed the mirror down and pulled his shirt
too, admiring his former work and the sensation they once gave him, in one
quick motion he picked up the mirror and once stopped by the ringing of his
phone, he debated whether he should get up and off his phone or ignore the
music, still admiring his former marks, he ran his hand on his arm, his chest,
his back even his abs, taking his time to remind himself of the ones he
stitched and the ones he treated and allowed to dry up.
His phone rand again and he cursed under
his breathe, regretting his decision no to switch his phone off, nobody
understood what this made him feel, they might call him crazy but at least here
he is with no one's opinion buzzing in his head, he cut through his abs, his
legs again and several on his arms, each cut made his heart beat faster but
lighter, filled with a sense of purpose he went on and on obsessively until his
whole body was covered with blood, he dropped the mirror like a trophy and
stared at his masterpiece, he knew this feeling would last as long as he bled. And
then he'd be back to the voices in his head calling him a disease, why else
would your parent abandon you? Immigration issues, he try to defend but
still a parent wouldn't abandon a child they love but then again why didn't
they give him a choice. His life has been like this and he can't even
remember when and doubts he'd still be able to recognize his parent, Why
else did every other person after them end up leaving you without any real
reason, the voices again but he wasn't going to ruin this moment, he was
going to savor every seconds of it. The last time he considered not being the
problem, he convinced himself to start seeing a shrink and we all know how
that is going. He cut himself a few more times before letting it go.
"knock, knock"
"Stop it" "you're banging right into my
head" he tried to shout but the words was lost on his tongue, but still he
hoped whoever stood at the door would stop. He just woke up, dried blood
plastered over his body, he picked his phone
"Holy cow, its evening"
"I'm coming" he said at the
continuous knock on the door, he had slept for hours, he wore a new black
turtle neck, a black joggers and a black socks to hide traces to
compliment. "I'm coming" he repeated as he washed his face and hands,
wiping any uncovered blood stain, making sure nothing gives him away.
"I just hope whoever is at the door
doesn't know the smell of blood"
He
said as he walked towards the door, he opened it and was surprised to meet his
lawyer's face
"Mr.
Job" He called out twice, 1st out of surprise and then to be
sure he wasn't hallucinating, he shut the door before job had a chance to
respond before opening it back hoping that This man's God would not see through
him, That's if he hasn't already
"Please come in" he said "What blood?" he asked, he had been lost in
thought
"I said, you look shocked that I am standing
here in flesh and blood" Job repeated
"oh
yes" Hassan feign a chuckle "Did something come up?" he was afraid his
lawyer could see through his expression
"Well,
no" Job answered "Your therapist called and asked if I could check in on
you" he continued "Are you okay" he paused and watch Hassan
"Oh
yeah of course I'm good" Hassan showed him to the couch
"Knock, knock"
What
a save "Who's
there?" Hassan made his escape
"Hassan
wait" Job walked towards him, grabbing his elbow
"Ah!!!!"
Hassan shouted his pain as he pulled his hands from the knob, leaving job more
curious than he was cautious
"You're bleeding" he said but Hassan eyes
was still shut, before he could reach out for him the door broke open