Short Story 1. Cuts.

Hellooo guys. This is the first short story I'm posting. Enjoy! :)

PG13.


I walked down into Madison Avenue, hearing nothing but the faint sound of the few cars left on the road. It is 1 in the morning, and I was pretty sure I'm the only one awake now. The whole world seem not to care anymore, after that big fight with dad. Now I'm all alone. I sat down on the kerb and stared as the lighted boards on the shopping malls slowly fickled out.

"Hey." A deep hollow voice said to me.

I looked up. A dark shadow hovered above me. He sat down beside me, and I noticed he had dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes. His eyes looked surprised, probably not knowing there would be someone else out in the streets late at night. But I also saw the pain in his eyes, like he have been hurt before.

"Hey." I replied, and gave him a slight smile.

"My name is Ian, yours?"

"Chloe."

"You look like you need company."

I laughed to myself. "What about you? Big boy alone at night?" He was just some stranger and I decided I wasn't going to tell him anything.

"Nah, bad day. You don't look so good either."

We talked for a while. Maybe an hour. I realized he was a lot like me. Plus he looks way hot, not someone you'll find hard to talk to.

"You don't seem like you're going to head home for the night, why don't come to my place?" He asked.

He was right. No way I'm going to go home. I agreed, and followed him back to his apartment.

Back in his place, we were talking, and he suddenly leaned in to kiss me. Gentle at first, then hard and hungry. His kiss consumed me. His hands slipped down from my arms, down to my hips, and slowly slid off my jeans, obviously enjoying every moment of it. Suddenly, he stopped. He saw it. I knew he did. He touched the thin, parallel red lines that lined my thighs.

"Don't." I said. Tears threatened my throat. I suddenly realized he might just be like the other guys. Afraid of someone like me.

"Don't worry, I have some too." He said.

Then he bent down and kissed the scars on my thighs, and then his lips were on mine again, hungrier than before.

After that, we sat on his couch watching old movies, cuddling up in a thick wool blanket, with a large bowl of caramel popcorn. It was then I saw it. Fine red lines on his wrist, normally covered with his bracelets and bands. I smiled, feeling so lucky to have someone know exactly how I feel and what I go through.

Sure, you do care.

   Many people say they understand. You tell them your worries and feelings and they just go: "Yea, I get it. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

    Well no, it won't be. And you don't understand. You don't understand how it feels to cry to sleep. To force a smile. To cut yourself. To be disappointed. To want to get hit by a car whenever you cross the road. No, you don't. It really hurts to just hear the same consolation time and again: "Its going to get better. You'll be okay." Well no. You don't just magically feel better after someone says that. You don't stop hurting, stop crying. Everything's the same. But people just keep asking if I'm fine. And if I say no, the reply would be: "You'll be fine." The thing is, when someone asks you if you're okay, they really don't want an answer. 

    I'm sick and tired of people pretending to care just to finish the 'job' of caring for me, and when I want to talk about something else, the answer is no because you're fine and you don't need my help. The end. I'll come to you when you're about to jump off Wickery Bridge. It sucks having to deal with the thought of someone just wanting to care for you, to just 'make you feel better'. I mean, I get it. You want to care, but if you really do care then stick with me throughout the good and bad times, not just the bad times. It makes me so disappointed and annoyed. If you want to just be my 'guardian' and not my friend, then it'll be much better to just not care. I'll be able to deal with it on my own. 

    People always say get friends that are with you during your lowest moments. That really ain't the best expression. If I truly wanted to be there for someone, I'll be happy to laugh and smile with her, not just console her only when she needs it. 

      Its really confusing for me, it really is. Do people really care, or they just want to make an impression? I really would rather just burying my feelings and not tell them to anyone, because few really do care. Its not worth the risk. Everyone just expects a "Hey, I have a problem." not a "Lets go watch a movie!" What's happening? Really.

  

       Maybe feelings are meant to be hidden. Just maybe.

Look at me.

I believe whenever I'm outside, I try to be the happiest I am, smiling, laughing, like there's nothing on my mind.

Many of us do that don't we? Having to put up a strong front for your juniors. Laughing at the insults said to you. Not able to cry or complain, only to be seen as a good senior, happy teenager, a good child. We always seem to ignore our feelings, bottle them up, suffering in silence. Telling ourselves that its our own battle to fight, our own war in our minds. We all worry that if we tell anyone our problems, they'll all see us differently.

But really, isn't pain, hurt, and hardships all part of life? When we fall, we get back up. We come back as a stronger person. If we just keep bandaging the hurt, and wounds, it'll never heal, and someday the bandages will come off, making it hurt even more.

I remember there was one night, a friday night, my dad was home and I had to show his my report slip to get it signed. I have already braced myself for what's about to be said to me, so I was quite prepared. When my dad saw my results he didn't shout at me, but he said pretty hurtful words to me. I've always been a strong person, words didn't really bring me down. But that day I wasn't feeling very well. Many things happened during the week, and I just ignored the feelings that were almost bursting out inside me. Those words said by my dad was like the last strum of the guitar till the string snaps. I felt like I was about to cry, so I casually walked to my room, not wanting anyone to see me cry. I still remember crying on my bed and saying I'm going to die, I'm going to die. I really don't know why I said that, really. Thinking about it know just makes me laugh. My bottled up emotions was coming out, and I couldn't put them back in. My mind was frantic and my body did things that I didn't want to do, and things that physically hurt myself even further, and so I would regret.

You see, sometimes when we suppress those feelings and pretend everything's alright, we know they're going to force out someday, and it might come out as something dangerous. But we still do it, because we want to look fine at that moment, we want to prove to ourselves that we can be strong. We want to look normal, not someone who's hurting.

I guess ultimately, we all want to be heard. To be felt, understood. But we're just worried of what others would think of us if we told them our secrets, shown our dark side. We're afraid we won't be accepted, or we will cause someone to worry about us, or we're just too afraid to do anything about our emotions. Just like how we're not afraid of the dark, we're afraid of what's in it. We're not afraid to tell someone, we're afraid of what's going to happen after that.

So maybe feelings do matter, some might hurt, but its all part of growing up. It just boils down to whether you want to deal with it your own, or with someone you trust. We might be afraid that the person we tell doesn't care, but that's another story. Telling someone sometimes helps to open that bottle and release some emotions out. Don't bottle up your emotions, as it will explode someday anyway. Be yourself. That's all that matters. :)

"We all say we want to die, but in reality, we just want to be saved."

"Daddy, I want to be an astronaut."

"Dad! I got chosen for this leaders course!" "Dad, I'm going to sing for this special event for my choir!" "Dad, I auditioned for this role in a musical."

I remember saying these familiar sentences. I'm very blessed with such good opportunities like these, and I'll always be excited to report back to my parents. After all, I see them everyday, they are the easiest to report to. So here am I looking all happy that I was the one of many to be chosen for these positions.

And my dad's reply will always be the same.
"Concentrate more on your studies, don't do too many outside activities. If your results at the end of the year are not satisfactory, you'll have to drop out of such activities. Understood?"
Not "Wow dear, I'm so proud of you!" or "I'm sure you'll get the role." or just a "Great job." But a reply that will make me regret for even mentioning about such a thing.

I don't know what others think, but for me, I feel that such events and opportunities are as important as studies. Sometimes a leaders camp can boost your credentials, and roles in musicals or choir performances can really help with self-confidence. Plus, is our studies really more important than our interests?

When I was younger, I used to tell my dad that I wanted to be an actress and singer in America, and do many concerts and even help charities. But he will always say that many people don't get into the music industry, and it would be easier to study hard and be successful in other types of work.


Isn't that a little bit of shattering a dream? Its like telling a little girl that Santa Claus doesn't exist. Its taking away the hope, imagination and dreams away from the little girl. How about the first man to step on the moon? If his dad were to tell him when he was little that it is impossible to travel to the moon, because no one has done it before, its a 60% chance he would not have been the first to do it. Of course its mostly on his ownself, and his belief. But a support is still needed for a dream as big as the moon!

Maybe what I really would like is for them to understand and support me. Sometimes we need to learn to stand up when we fall, that's the way in life. We should be the author of our own life, not all in hands of someone else. Sure, we'll need some help here and there, but we should be the one that play a bigger part in our life.

We only live once. It depends if you want to play safe and throw your dreams away, or take the risk and chase your dreams. When I'm older, I think I'll regret what I haven't done, than the things I've failed. We all are young only once, I'll like to do the things I love.

Razors.

Self-Harm is no joke. Self-harm is purposely inflicting pain to oneself, commonly using razors or knifes to cut one's body.

Many people who don't self-harm might find this completely stupid. Why would someone want to do that? So naturally, many people would call these people 'emo', or 'attention seekers'. What these people do not understand is what self-harmers go through in their life.

Firstly, these self-harmers must be mentally hurt really bad to be able to slit themselves like that. They don't just do it for no reason at all. So calling them names and making fun of them isn't helping them at all.

Secondly, what non self-harmers do not know is how difficult it is to stop self-harming. Many self-harmers cut themselves as when they see blood, it reminds them that they are still alive. Also, cutting is an addiction, an addiction which would become an obsession, which would turn into something they cannot live without.

Thirdly, when many people spot cuts on somebody's wrists, they know that he/she is a self-harmer, and that they are just seeking attention by openly showing it. However, the thing is self-harm is a medical condition. There should not be a need to hide it, especially since many are trying to recover. So showing their scars, they are just learning to accept that they have been hurt, and are trying to recover, NOT to show off.

For a self-harmer, everyday they go through the temptation of cutting. When something massive gets thrown to them, their mind loses itself and their bodies just act accordingly. They go through life hurt and broken. Every scar reminding them of what had happened.

Every scar tells a story. And self-harm would never be understood unless you've been through it before. Many self-harmers are trying to recover, and making fun of them is just making them hide themselves and take out their razors. So think before you speak, they are just trying to live and be happy.

Am I dreaming?

Dreams. A word that gives hope of happiness. Everyday we deal with the hardest situations, but the thought that one day that dream might come true just helps to make everything better.

Everybody has dreams. The best career, meeting that one special guy, freedom. When we were younger, we dreamt hard. We were not afraid to want to be a princess or something. We were so naive to think that anything could happen. My dream when I was younger was to be an actress. Well it still kinda is. It was what gave me my passion for singing and acting. Now, one of my biggest dream is to be happy. I guess thats all that really matters. We want that career to be happy, freedom to be happy. But happiness, is that really easy to achieve?

When we were younger, there were no problems. We were jealous of other's candy. We cried when we fell down. We smile when we see something funny. We didn't have to worry about anything. Now, we all suffer from insecurity. We cry when we're heartbroken. We fake smiles. And it seems that everything is to be burden on us. Its like happiness only came from our childhood. Stark reality comes rushing in as soon as we grow older.

There was once, I had a band performance, and I was really enjoying the time with my friends. I had a really bad day before that, and was trying to be extremely outgoing to forget about all stress. I tried to be happy. But as soon as my performance was over, I came home to find that everything was wrong. My family members had fought and everyone was so silent. Normally I would just let it go, I mean its life, there would be bound to have fights. But no, I took everything so seriously. Because I realized that when I tried to be happy, in the end everything would be wrong. I put my hopes so high, and the higher I go, the harder I fall.

So I guess true happiness is to leave everything to God. Just not expect anything, so you won't be disappointed. Just let go, let situations take its natural route. Happiness is, a road to your dreams. In a more peaceful state of mind would it be easier to work hard in whatever we want.

But even if we leave it to God, how we feel is still in our control. Its either you play safe and not be as happy as you actually can. Or you take the risk and go all out, laugh, smile, but you just might be disappointed all over again.

So it all boils down to one final word. Hope. We all hope that we can get to our dream. We all hope for happiness.

One Smile. :)

Does anyone really care?

Those everyday problems we all meet as teenagers, insecurities, parents, stress. And then you really think if there is anyone feeling the same way, having those exact same questions. Well I guess there will probably be many teenagers having such problems, and I guess we all need a shoulder to lean on. Many people probably would have a solution to that. "Get a boyfriend!" They would say. Well yea, I guess to some extent, it would help to have someone by your side when you're feeling down. But hey, don't many relationships end up breaking both parties heart? And even if most couples would disagree, what about those singles? Does that mean they'll have to suffer in their own thoughts and feelings?

I used to, well I still do, suffer from these problems. I had too many responsibilities pushed to me, and my parents were not supportive in the things I love. I also hated myself and suffered from a hell lot of insecurities. At one point it got so serious that I did things that I regret. All these things was because I thought too little of myself, and also did not want to burden others.

Okay, now when you read till here, I might look like I'm some friendless loser. Well, no. Infact I had plenty of friends. There were so many people who seemed to care for me, some which I shared my problems with. But as my thoughts and stress got into me, I pushed people away. Not physically, but mentally, without even knowing it. My mind told me that those people don't actually care for me. They just text me and asked about my problems because they thought they had to, beacause they were put to be in charge of me. Even if it doesn't seem to be the case, my mind would make up excuses for their care, and I would feel so down, and empty.

Empty. Emptiness. The feeling like there's no hope, no happiness. When you just wanna lie on your bed. When you just wanna so badly tell someone. That feeling sucks.

A few years ago, when I was younger, I used to think that people who cut themselves and do all those stupid shit were losers. Well now I understand. Sometimes your thoughts consume you, and you cry till you cannot take it anymore. That's what happens. Those losers I once mocked seem to appear so strong. Well, not exactly. They are probably struggling.

So where are those people when we need them? One text. One hug. One smile. Might just be what these broken hearts need.