Embrace the Darkness: Part 1

"I don't need it, I don't need it..." I quietly whispered to myself, "Nope not this time. No..." I found it was a lost cause trying to talk myself out of it as the razor I held in my hand came dangerously closer. 1

"I am stronger and better than this," saying these things have no effect though. 2

"I need it!" I screamed as the razor finally came in contact with my parched skin. I couldn't resist, just like the last time.  I eventually came to my senses and looked down to see a pulsing red line growing in the middle of my wrist.  No more could I hold my hand back as I quickly sliced another semi-deep vertical gash. When I realized I was crying I dropped the straight edge and fell to the cold, blue, tile floor in a sobbing mess. You can't keep doing this, my mind tried to reason with me. 3

"It's not like anyone cares anyways," I whispered under my breath. Yes, they do, my mind scolded me.4

"God would you just shut up," I screamed. Now it is silent, in the whole sense of the word. I am not surprised it had come to this again. I mean the recent flare up of insomnia was nothing new and neither are the almost nightly fights between my parents. That stuff is nothing compared to when my best friend told me that I had changed and that I was a bad influence on her. I was so mad at her that I told her to go to hell, that people change, and that I didn't need her bad attitude anymore. The incident happened almost a month ago but it feels like an hour ago. She 'was' my best friend all my life. She was my only girl friend that I felt like I could talk with. We shared everything. Now there is nothing. I am alone.  It does not matter anymore now that I had finally graduated from high school...I didn't need her.  5

Tonight my parents went out, no less, probably getting drunk and sleeping with other people. At least they weren't home yelling. Or maybe that would have been better. It is my fault they are like this, they never wanted any kids especially a girl.  I am always the problem that can't be fixed.  I figure if I was never born that my father would have never started drinking and none of this would have happened. But it's not like I can just be un-born.  6

I only hold on knowing that soon I will legally be able to leave this living nightmare behind me.  As soon as my 18th birthday comes, I will be gone, never looking back. Getting out is all I can hope for now that I know that not even my best friend cares about me.7

"Ex-best friend," I said under my breath.8

"Damn it, Caylee, where is that damn b!+ch?" I cringed as I heard my father's faltering, drunken voice at the door. 9

"I guess she's not home," I said keeping me voice calm as he called my mother a b!+ch, yet once again.  The big man went and sat in his favorite old, holey chair.  And I sighed in relief as I heard him lightly snoring. I wouldn't be surprised to never see my mother again or be picking out her coffin.  She has become more relentless in front of my father. She parades every man she brings home in front of him before she takes her "guest" back to their bed to sleep with them.  My father can't really complain he stared it all. My mother caught him in bed with a girl last year and it all went downhill from there. It almost seems that they are in a contest to see who will sleep with the most people.  Then some nights they just yell and though things at each other, each threatening to leave.  When I know that will never happen. They like this sick thing that we call a family.  10

And just like the time before, the blood, gushing from under my hand at my wrist had gone unnoticed. I might actually be grateful for that one thing.  I crawled up the stairs and ran for my room; I knew my mother had come home about fifteen minuets before my father came in.  I knew that she was "enjoying" her company.11

"Jack, can you come pick me up...and take me to the hospital?"  I stuttered on the last words. Then I silently waited for his reaction. 12

"Caylee, I thought you said the last time was the last time..." His clear British accent ringing in my ear, he was not mad he was hurt. "Of course, I'll be there in a few minuets." Then he hung up.13

Jack understands me, he does not judge me.  He has taken me to the hospital many times.  I sat on the front steps waiting to hear his old mustang.  I heard it and looked up to the green car that had become so familiar to me.14

Then there he was running up the driveway to come get me.  I could see his long, midnight black hair shinning in the moonlight, as it just seemed to soak it up.  As he came up to the porch, I could barely see his violet eyes in the dim porch light.  I knew he had been crying. 15

"Are you ready to go?" he questioned. I just shook my head and he lead us back to his car, opening and closing the door for me. I was afraid to speak, as if I might burst into a thousand little pieces. I cannot keep hurting him; I have to stay strong after this.  The long ride to the hospital was quiet. There were no other cars out this late at night, and I slowly drifted off to sleep.16

When I woke up though I was already in a room and Jack was sitting in a chair across from me just looking at me.17

"What lie did you tell them this time?" I said to Jack.18

"That you were riding your bike and fell off." He chuckled at this. We both looked at each other and knew they probably did not buy that, they had seen me come here many times.  19

The nurse came in to assess the damage, then cleaned it, put a bandage over it and told me to be more careful when I rode my bike.  After she left I laughed a little, I had not ridden a bike in over 6 years. I was just glad they were not going to question me as they did last time.  Jack and I left the hospital laughing, the woman at the desk just looked at us weird. 20

"You want to crash at my house?" Jack asked after we had gotten in the car.21

"Jack, I wish I could stay with you, I can't take living at my house anymore," I said staring at his violet eyes.  He did not say anything immediately, which was strange.22

"I guess so for now..."23

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." I said hugging his neck almost making him run off the road.24

"Come on now let go, you don't want to go back to the hospital tonight and have to tell them that a rabid lawn mower attacked you." I just laughed along with him as we pulled up to his small one story house.25

Once inside you went straight to the fridge and pulled out bread and lunchmeat. 26

"I wouldn't eat that; I don't remember when I brought it." Jack said looking at the rancid meat in your hand.  I chucked it to the garbage can and just looked at him.27

"Well what do you expect me to eat; I haven't eaten in three days." 28

"You could eat some of my birthday cake in there; it's only...four days old." I knew this information though; I was here for his twentieth party.  I pulled it out and looked at the half-eaten cake. It now read Hap Birt Jac. You decided to eat the 'Hap' part.29

"You want any?" You said with your mouth half-full.30

"No, I'm o.k." he said looking very distant.31

"Jack...what's wrong?" I asked quietly looking at him in surprise.  He didn't respond, he just kept looking at the wall.  I looked at it but it just looked like a regular wall to me, what was keeping his attention on this plain looking wall.  There were not any pictures or a clock or anything on it. 32

"They're calling me, Caylee" He whispered, almost to himself rather.33

"Who...who's calling you Jack...talk to me."34

"They want me to turn you..."35

"Jack...who...turn me...what are you talking about?" I faltered as my voice became clenched. 36

"We need to go somewhere to...talk..." he took me in his arms and said something in a whispered voice and that is the last thing I remember before blacking out.37