s e l f - h a r m (n):
the practice of cutting or otherwise wounding oneself, usually considered as indicating psychological disturbance

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Some peoples pain ran through their blood.

As if it was a part of their veins.

As if it was what kept their blood flowing.

I think Macy's pain may have been like that.

Her world revolved around it. Every tear, every heartbreak, every mistake, every cut fed it like it was a living parasite. A parasite that never got full and only craved more.

So, the more it craved the more she gave.

Or maybe I simply reflected my own thoughts and experiences onto her own. Either way, we were both royally fucked up. In our own ways but nonetheless, we needed help.

Help that we never got.

In the end, that's the only thing that stopped me from hating her.

And in a way, she was my own personal parasite. She took parts of me. Parts I didn't want to give. She was right when she said she didn't make me swallow a bottle of pills.

But she was wrong in so many other ways.

She was wrong back in eighth grade when she took both my best friends from me all with one simple yes. She chose to date Zach. She chose to say yes to be his girlfriend, and in doing so she also chose to break me. Maybe it would have been better if she didn't know what she was doing–

but she knew.

I talked about him like he was my only source of happiness.

And he was at the time.

She knew how I felt, and it didn't just break my heart, it broke our friendship.

To this day, I'm not sure which one was worse.

When they started dating I couldn't even look at him without seeing her. All I saw was how happy she made him and all the possibilities that wouldnt ever happen.

I knew it wasn't fair to blame her for putting her happiness before mine, but I did anyways because back then I was incredibly selfish, which is something I don't think I've fully grown out of.

It was wrong when I broke down in Marks' arms because she slept with him. Like a parasite, she sucked all my tears out of me and laid them onto on his shirt and lap as I bawled for hours.

She managed to give him what I couldn't. She gave them both parts of me that didn't exist anymore.

Parts that she took from me just as she did everything else.

Deep down I know she didn't take them. I know they chose her. I know that life is a race and there's always going to be a first place.

But for my sake, I had to pretend like I didn't cross the finish line last.

And it worked for a while. But life always catches up with you. And its hard to ignore a bookcase that only contains second place trophies.

But the worst thing she did out of all the years I'd known her was make me not hate her. We were so much alike, and hating her should have come as easy as hating myself did–

But it didn't.

How can you hate someone who's bathroom floor might as well be permanently stained red?

Someone whos veins echoed cries of help. Someone who was willing to take a blade to her skin and let those pleas out.

But no one ever heard.

So, they echoed on repeat. Again, and again, until there we were on the bathroom floor. Me so out of my element that I thought words could be replaced for a needle and thread and sew her skin back together. Her trying not to drown in her mistakes, grasping onto me like I was the only thing left to anchor her to reality.

I couldn't hate someone who understood what it meant to hurt so much that you became numb. Until it was just you and your thoughts screaming that you werent good enough.

That you werent worth it, and never would be.

I couldn't despise Macy the way I did myself, and for that, I truly did hate her.

But I hoped my pathetic, "its okay" and "it gets better" and all the other empty encouraging sayings you're supposed to tell someone when they're more broken than they should be, helped her. I hope they killed a little bit of the parasite or made it a little less hungry.

Because mine never stopped eating away at me. It never stopped craving the pain, and I never stopped feeding it.

Now, look where I am.

a/n

to everyone still reading, I apologize for taking forever to update. life gets busy.

if you don't fully understand this chapter refer back to chapter 11 and characters.

There are a total of nine more parts, seven of which will be as short as this one one.

also, how do you think this book will end? how do you want it to end? that includes who you want to be together and all that.

thanks for reading and don't forget to vote! :)

Up next: Zach