Chapter 2

2441 Words
I helped my grandmother carry in our bags and boxes, surprisingly she had more than I did, she said something about her being older means she had more things to bring with, but I think it's because the women has a problem collecting books. She had brought at least two hundred books with us, when I protested after my third trip to the car to grab one of the boxes only to find it was yet another box of books, she politely told me where to shove it. The thing about my grandmother is she is brutally honest, painfully so, and I think that's why her and I have always been as close as we are. This and the fact that she has quite literally always been there for me, my parents had me quite young and had to work crazy hours trying to finish their studies which meant my grandmother would step in and look after me. "This is the last box" I huffed, dropping the box onto the kitchen counter while my grandmother poured herself a glass of Rose wine. I can't imagine why she loved the stuff, it tasted like ass to me, not that I liked any alcohol in specific, I've never really found any of it appealing. I bent open the flap of the box to have a look inside so we knew which room to take it to next. A checkered red jacket peered back at me, my hands trembled as I immediately shoved the box closed, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath to calm my emotions. "Why are you hanging onto this stuff gran?" My voice cracked, a lump forming in my throat. I couldn't bare to look at any of my parents things after the accident. My grandmother had to sort through all of their things and sell up our furniture, something I was eternally grateful for but it set off a new sinkhole of guilt deep within me, as if I didn't have enough of those already. Why wasn't I strong enough? "Because he was my son Sarah" My grandmother spoke softly yet firm enough to let me know it was non negotiable. I felt selfish for acting out in my grief when she was grieving the loss of her son too, but every time I see anything that belonged to my parents, my mind is bombarded with memories, emotions and most of all, guilt. So I chose to shut it off. To put it all in a box and seal it deep within the innermost corners of my mind. To become numb and not feel anything at all rather than to drown in the emotions that is grieving them. My grandmother on the other hand celebrated my fathers life in many ways, I would see her smiling to herself as she looked through old pictures of him regularly, or recalling some memories of him while I shut off. I would also hear her crying in her room at night when she thought I was asleep. She was a strong women, but no women is strong enough to withstand the death of their child. "I Just-" I thought of my words very carefully as to not sound too insensitive, "I can't-" "It's okay, I'll keep their things with me in my room" she gave me a small smile, reaching over the counter to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. "What's for dinner?" I smiled, skillfully changing the topic, one of the ways I had learned to keep that box shut tight within the back corners of my mind. "I'm going to order pizza in a few minutes, and don't worry I'll make sure to get the hideous olive one you like" She chuckled scrunched up her nose before taking a sip of her wine. "I'm going to explore the rest of the house" I laughed, turning around to get as far away from the box that sat on the kitchen counter as possible, hoping my grandmother wouldn't notice my haste. "Take your bags up with you" She called out after me as I walked down the passage towards the reception area. The house was massive, way bigger than the one we had back in California, and way too big for just the two of us, but my grandmother said this was the only one available for long term rent in the area and that it wasn't badly priced. I'm guessing that's due to the clear lack of tourists in this strange town. I slung my three bags on my shoulder and internally cursed myself for packing too many clothes as I walked up the stairs towards the bedrooms with my legs burning from the added weight. Upstairs had five bedrooms and two bathrooms, my grandmother had the master bedroom and ensuite that sat towards the left of the house, while I opted for the bedroom on the far right, mainly because it had a large bay window that overlooked the expansive back garden and pool. But also because it had a full view of the creepy estate next door. I'd always been a sucker for horror movies and I found this estate all to enticing. I was curious to see who lived there and why the hell they hadn't really renovated. I dropped my bags on the floor and scanned my new bedroom. A four poster bed sat in the middle of the room, with an ornate old wooden desk and chair positioned next to the bay window. Apart from that the bedroom was quite empty and bare. I had a box downstairs full of my bedroom decor and bedding, but I couldn't bring my legs to go back down and get it. For the first time all day I felt drained, fully feeling the effects of our long travel to get here. I walked over to the bed, turned around and free fell backwards onto the plush mattress with a huff, kicking my white converse off in one swift motion. I groaned as I remembered that tomorrow is my first day at my new school. Ravenswood High, couldn't they come up with something more original? I've got a feeling that if the town's folk are anything to go by, that my new classmates are going to be a delightful bunch of weirdos. Luckily I just have this school year left then I'll be off to college and far away from this place, but that still didn't solve my issue of here and now. I wish I didn't have to be here. Why me? I felt the anger that fostered inside me start to bubble up to the surface. In what world does it make sense to force your teenage daughter to move to a strange town once you have died? Leaving all her friends and life she had built behind during her senior year. I was bitterly angry, angry at them for their stupid will that made no sense. Angry at them for not being here for me to yell at about it and most of all angry at myself for still being here while they weren't. I felt hot tears pool in the corners of my eyes at my thoughts while I bit my bottom lip painfully to stop the sobs from escaping my lips. The box I kept shut tightly rattled threatening to burst open like a dam. I squeezed my eyes shut desperately trying to reel myself in, pulling myself off the edge of the cliff that overlooked my sea of grief. I shot up off my bed, tears streaming down my face while I rummaged through one of my bags that lay on the floor, my eyes searching, my fingers pleading for the one thing I knew could shut it all off again. The one thing that had helped save me from myself. My hand hit the icy cold object amongst my clothes while a wave of relief washed over me at it's touch. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled out with a sigh, almost smiling at the sight of it within my palm. I stood up and walked over to the door, closing the door and locking it behind me. I reached down and unbuttoned my pants with my left hand and pulled them down until they pooled at my ankles, the sobs now starting to subside as I felt some semblance of control whilst looking at the shiny silver object that sat in my hand, it's pointed edges glistering in my new dimly lit bedroom. I sunk to the floor, sitting cross legged with my inner thighs fully exposed. The protractor in my hand felt like my saving grace, a tool that controlled the turmoil of my life and brought me back to reality from my spiraling thoughts. The tool that pulled me off that cliff when I was so close to falling into my own eternal sea of grief. I opened the protractor to a 90 degree angle and positioned it comfortably in my hands as my body shook with anticipation, the sobs that were once wracking through my body now halted. I held the one arm of the protractor in my palm while the other arm poked out between my index finger and thumb. Without hesitating I pressed the point of the protractor to my soft inner most part of my thigh, at the tip of a deep red scar from when I did this before. I dug the point into my skin, flinching as it broke through my skin while blood trickled down my thigh to the wooden floors. I exhaled as my adrenaline shot through my body and relief flooded through me like a tidal wave. I felt pulled back from that edge I dangerously dangled off of moments ago. In control of myself and my emotions yet again, but I still wasn't finished. I pulled the protractor down my thigh, tracing the 3 cm scar that sat there already with a sigh of relief, my body physically slumping with satisfaction as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the door. After a few moments of just controlling my breathing, I opened my eyes, looking down at the mess between my thighs, a trickle of crimson blood pooled on the wooden floor and I felt immediate guilt at the sight. My eyes traced over the other two scars that sat on my other leg, and I promised myself that this would be the last time. That's what you said the last time.... I knew this was wrong. I'm not stupid enough to believe that this was normal or healthy. But it's healthier than the alternative for me which is immersing myself in my grief. In the few moments I had allowed myself to feel it, and I mean really feel it. To sit there and try and accept that they are gone, to remember the good times and the bad. Those times where I truely felt the depth of my grief consumed me. I had cried so hard that I was sure my heart was physically tearing apart in my chest while I dry heaved the contents of my stomach. The feeling of hopelessness followed me around like a dark cloud on the days I chose to feel my grief, and if I wasn't careful it would consume me completely, I was certain of it. "Sarah, the pizza's are here" My grandmothers voice echoed through the moderately empty house, pulling me from my self pity thoughts. "I'm coming!" I called back, wiping my tear stained cheeks with the back of my hand while I stood up and waddled over to my bag with my jeans still at my ankles. I dug out a old dark grey shirt and some Band-Aids I kept for these sorts of situations. I cleaned up the blood, placed a Band-Aid on and pulled up my pants. Checking myself in the mirror against the wall before I headed out the door. My blue eyes didn't hold that mischievous sparkle it once did, and my strawberry blonde locks now just held a sad reminder of my mother. I tore my eyes away from my reflection I no longer recognized and headed out the door. My grandmother and I spent the rest of the evening eating pizza and unpacking. Luckily our new home had a small library downstairs where the two hundred or so books could go, and once we were done unpacking most of our stuff, the place started to feel a little more homely while we joked about how badly our feet ached. My grandmother reminisced about her life as a kid while we unpacked, she came from a family of five siblings, one of which I had actually met. My father was her only child and his father, the love of my grandmothers life, had died a long time ago when my father was still a young boy. I've never had the heart to ask how he died, I knew it was tragic and unexpected but every time my grandmother spoke about him the look in her eyes told me not to press any further, even after all these decades, the wounds were still fresh for her, the love for him still burned deep within her eyes. I showered and headed off to bed, chugging down my sleeping pill before I climbed into bed. My doctor had me on these for the nightmares, they worked... When I remembered to take them. Apart from these I am supposed to be on antidepressants, but they make me feel really spaced out so I refuse to take them, and my grandmother picks her battles wisely with me, she doesn't push the pills. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours wondering about what tomorrow would have in store before I finally found the peace of sleep. Author's Note I did warn you guys in the overview that this book would contain some dark and deep content that some people may find triggering. This is just the start of the novel and if you are already triggered I advise to not continue. Don't get me wrong, the story is beautiful, but it is dark and heavy, so read on with caution. I won't be putting any extra warnings around content in this novel, this is your last warning. And as always, Thank you for all your votes and reads. P.S I've set up a ** page to show how I envision characters, plots, whats coming next and to chat about sequeals. Please give me a follow : @JRMool Much love  xoxo
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