Day 2 - CasMature

Day 2: What part of your body is most affected by it?

My arms and thighs, definitely. Summer’s come to an end and autumn is in full swing, for which I am insanely glad of. I’ve never been one to enjoy the searing heat that summer brings- if you can call the sunny weather that Britain tends to experience ‘searing’ anyway, so I do tend to either stay in the shade during the warm weather, or else stay covered up when I’m in the sun, which is equally to do with the ease of which I turn bright red and burn in the sunlight as it is due to the scars which decorate my body.

I’ve gone out today. I had to- staying at home is torment knowing that my blades are in reaching distance from my desk. There’s no point in me throwing them away; I’d only find something sharper and more deadly to play with. So for now I’m keeping myself busy, wandering round town the way I always do when I’m feeling out of sorts. I’ve got my netbook with me- I keep it in my satchel and I’ve found some free wifi and so I’m perched precariously on a wall, blogging as I do.

It’s one of those pleasant days at the start of October, where you know its practically the last full day of nice weather you’ll see this side of the new year. I’ve got my black hoodie on, and my green Doc Martens- my trademark outfit when it comes to hanging round around here. I live in a seaside town, the stereotypical town in the North West of England where people come on holiday and leave before the bad weather sets in. It’s a lovely place once the sun’s out, but once the sky has clouded over, a grey wash settles over everything and exposes everything for the grim, decaying suburban landscape that it really is. The tourists have no clue what it’s like to actually live here. It’s grown rough over the past couple of years – I’m sitting in a particularly bad area, but because it’s not even gone 1’oclock, the streets are deserted, and I’m quite safe. People don’t tend to mess with me round here- if you’ve been wandering round on your own round here since you were fourteen, you know the place pretty well, and the people know you just the same.

Liverpool’s a forty minute train ride away, and I’m as much of a regular there as I am here. I ran into a photographer before, a slim, pretty girl who looked about my age. The thing is, I recognised her, though I wasn’t about to fangirl about her blog with her while she was taking some shots of the sea front. I might inbox her online later- after all, it’s a rare thing to stumble upon one of your favourite bloggers when you’re walking round aimlessly.

I was sitting in Starbucks before, drinking a caramel macchiato when my friend Matt plopped down opposite me. Turned out he could only sit and chat for a few minutes, but it was nice to see him all the same- I hadn’t seen him since he’d left school a few months ago and enrolled in a Media course in a sixth form in the heart of Liverpool.

‘So, how’ve you been? Up to much?’ he asked me. He’s always been brief- people think him rude or arrogant, but he’s just very observant, and he’s not afraid to say things like they are. Needless to say that he worked out what I’d been doing almost as soon as I’d started cutting all those moths go.

‘I’m alright,’ I replied and proceeded to explain to him about the challenge. ‘It’s worth a shot, at least- you know how it is with these things’.

Matt nodded in approval. I stirred my coffee while he went on to say about how I needed to just power through this. And then he was gone, as quick as that. I’ll see him soon, I suppose, and it was nice to see him, it just reminds me how lonely this life can be when you’ve not got the stereotypical gaggle of female friends on your heels a lot of the day, like the majority of the girls at school.

I’m still sitting on the wall. It’s Sunday, so school’s tomorrow and I’m not sure I can face a full day there without a way to relieve my stress later on. My grades are still shit. I suppose I should work harder, considering I’m trying so hard to turn my life around. I could ask mum to get me a tutor, I suppose. I’ll discuss it with her tonight, if she’s in a mood to listen.  

I’ve not got much else to talk about really. I suppose this is turning into a diary, but fuck it I’m quite enjoying writing this so I think I’ll continue. I’ve saved up some money, and I don’t quite know what to do with it. Matt mentioned that I should do something creative with it, or spend it on something that will distract me from thinking about cutting. He really is a positive influence on me, I think. I could buy a camera, and take some interesting photos like that blogger I saw earlier. It would give me something constructive to do while I’m wandering round town.

I’m dreading going home. If I stay out late again I know I’ll be grounded, which means I’ll have to spend more time at home, trying not to think about doing something I know I’ll regret the morning after. But if I go home now, the same thing will happen. I’ve got some schoolwork to do, but apart from that, it’ll just be me, alone except for my thoughts of the blades in the box on my shelf.

The End

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