Average.
Okay, this is my first story, I know it is short, and i know there are probably a few grammatical errors. I would like you to message them to me so i can edit, i don't know if i am going to write another it really depends on the feedback. Also i would love for some suggestions if you have them.
Average. That's all I think when I look in the mirror, and continuing to stare at the dull hazel eyes and light orange fur. Average, plain and simple. The overall uncreative physical qualities about myself are only surpassed by the averageness of my mental status. A "b" student, a failing artist, a failed musician, a high school drop out, working for minimum wage at a job I hate. I look down on the one unique feature about me, the perfect set of seventeen scars on my left arm, one added for every birthday. Back in my room I check the calendar, march 2nd, time for number eighteen. The too familiar box sits on my shelf holding inside of it, the knife responsible for the scars. It has lost its sheen and has grown dull. The cold steel is a comforting feeling in my hand. I slowly walk back to the bathroom, tiring not to walk anyone else in the house. "Where to do it at to hide all the blood." Voices from friends and loved ones are telling me to stop, but i quickly block them out. "If you all cared so much you would have noticed, you would have helped before it was to late." No longer able to hold back the tears, my vision is blurred, hands shaking to badly to make a clean enough cut. Thinking through this process, I sit in the bathtub and switch holding the knife in a new position. I remember back on all of the people who have slipped through my hands, they couldn't be saved and now neither can I. The voices bubble back to the surface of my mind, all of this causes some slight hesitation. "Average, you are already average, don't also be a pussy." The blade tears through the flesh as I pull it up my arm this year instead of across, each bar of scar tissue is just another speed bump on the road to relief. A fountain of blood has begun, the odor immediately fills the air. I have to hurry before some one else smells it. In my haste I push to hard and get the knife stuck in the bone. "Fucking great, there is no way I am going to be able to pull it out."
The front door of the house closes just as the darkness is beginning to set in. I hear the voice of someone long forgotten. This causes my mind to fight to stay alive, instead of just dying. Footsteps are closing in to the bathroom door. "Why, why the fuck didn't I lock it." It was always these tiny errors that burned holes into my existence. Once again not thinking clearly I try to stand, and take out a small shelf. The resulting crash could be heard echoing throughout the house, the steps hasted and the door bursts open showing only shadowy figures as i slip from conciseness. "Oh My God, he is bleeding out call nine-one-one!"
"Fuck, what happened, oh fuck, it is his birthday, how did we forget that?" "Shit. oh shit!, he is barely breathing, shit!"
"Calm down. Zac, Zac if you can hear me hold on it will be alright!" " They are on the way. Oh fuck I don't think i can handle losing him."
I was drifting though the vacuum of space, watching stars being born and, galaxies coming into creation.The swirling of the dust clouds created every color in the spectrum, they shone with a brightness that touched my soul. The random chaos of existence was perfectly mimicked, by these most basic forces. Looking out on the endless, ever-expanding darkness, a sense of peace overwhelmed me and I no longer felt any pain. After a while there was a flash of brilliant white light, a figure was extending its hand to me, I took the hand and was transported back to reality. "Alright he is stable, but some one should stay in the room incase he tires this again," a man in a white coat said while his back was turned to me. "Hello there," saying as he turned back around, "you gave us quite to scare but you are better now." He quickly rotates again before i can look up at him. "Alright he has lost a lot of blood but he should be fine. He was legally was dead for fifteen seconds so tell me of any abnormalities you might see."
The white wash on everyone's faces made it hard to see my savior. Pain shot from my wrist through my entire arm, stitches ran the length of my arm. All the white fur was stained pink and red. The people looking back down at me slowly came in to focus. "Orion, you fucking bastard why couldn't just let me die?"
"Good morning to you to sunshine." He was one of my only friends, I shouldn't yell at him. A cat of only 5'6", and about 145 pounds, white with orange stripes, he looked down on my and kissed my forehead. "I didn't want to lose you." "So what happens now, I learn the error of my ways,and you and i live happily ever after."
"I wish it were all that simple." The glow from the fluorescent lights reflected off his glasses and shone into my eyes. Silence flooded in and was only broken by the monotonous beeping of my heart monitor. He let out a long sigh, ",look you have to stay here for a few weeks for observation, at the end of which it will be determined if you need to go to a mental hospital or not." An air of seriousness was felt, "you have to try and behave for a while so...." He sits down on the small chair in the room and takes off his glasses, he wipes a tear from his eye. ".... so i don't lose you, you are all I have left." His words stung, all this time i have been only thinking of myself. Movement with my arm was still restricted but I managed to reach over and grab his hand. "Look, I can't promise you much."
"Just don't try again." Love could be felt within his words, turning towards him, I notice the stitches in my arm had ripped a little. Blood was dripping from the reopened wound, creating a crimson puddle on the floor. A pain came over me, I clenched his hand tighter.
"Zac, you are bleeding."
"Fuck."
He leans in and kisses me and the pain melts away.