Friday, 8 December 2006
10:38:36 AM (GMT)
The link to the awsome story didn't work, so I will put it on this site!
This was written by smeone with the penname scrivania
What You Don't Know..
No one would ever notice, right? I mean, I’m the confident twin. Cody was the smart
sensitive one. It would be alright if he cried.
Like at dad’s funeral last year, Cody was bawling his eyes out, and his gorgeous
girlfriend, (who is sixteen, of course he gets the older girl, even if it is by just
a year) comforted him. And mom cried on my shoulder. So I had to be strong for her
and Cody, it was almost if I wasn’t allowed to show any weakness, even if I
didn’t feel strong in reality.
I always hid behind my fake confidence, putting Cody down so I could feel better
about myself. But by the time I was almost fourteen, that wasn’t enough. It was if
I couldn’t control my hands when they took a razor blade to my wrists. The cuts
weren’t deep enough to kill me- that’s not what I wanted to do. I just wanted to
relieve my pain. But of course, no one noticed, I kept my guard up, acted the same,
and wore long-sleeved shirts with the same sarcastic remarks written across them.
Now it’s just a habit. When I’m stressed out, or feeling depressed, I head right
towards the bathroom. Cody is still naïve that nobody, especially me, would do
something like that. It would just break mom’s heart if she found out that her
confident cocky son isn’t as secure as she thought. That’s why they can’t
And I’ve made out with lots of girls, but even that can’t compare with my razor.
And plus, it’s always been about Maddie. I don’t know why I’m stuck on her, I
mean, I’m just a lowly frosh and she’s a senior…but there’s something about
her. She usually cheers me up, until I see her making out with her jock asshole
boyfriend during her break. She doesn’t know that I secretly like her- maybe love
Also, you know, they say drugs are overrated. But trust me, it really isn’t. To
feel that high, like you are invincible for once, and that nothing can go wrong…
it’s the best. Sometimes I forget that dad is dead, and that I’m a failure in
everything that matters in life. I can forget my own ****ing insecurities and I can
forget my razor.
I don’t know what I want from life, what I want to do with my life. I don’t like
the past, but I’m even more scared of the future. And failing—I don’t try at
life because, what if I can’t do it, what if I mess up? It’s easier to block the
situation, bottle up my feelings, and continue to survive. I like to pretend that
just surviving as an empty shell is better than real life, and strangely enough, I
It’s not what you would expect is it? To see my wrists littered with scars, but you
know, that’s life—and that’s how I cope with it.
I was in the hotel lobby doing my homework on one of the couches that night. This
served two purposes- to get away from Cody who couldn’t stop talking about Gloria,
his girlfriend, how he got an A on a huge report, and how he even got on the soccer
team after all his hard practice, he was actually coordinated (at least in this one
So why am I, Zack- the guy with the same DNA structure as my perfect brother Cody, so
depressed? I bet I made myself this way. My fascination with razors will just lead me
more into the path to destruction. I paused with my thoughts to watch Maddie at the
at the candy counter, staring at her legs (the second reason I was doing homework at
the hotel lobby). I watched her look at her watch to see the time, and sigh. I knew
that she was waiting for her boyfriend Jake to arrive, but this was the third time
he’s been late. Here was my chance. I stood up to talk to her.
“Jake’s not here. For the third time this week.” Maddie looked up at me.
“Yeah...I know. I can’t believe that you noticed that. But not only that, my
friend Tanya said that she saw him with his ex, but I thought that she was just
saying that because she’s still mad at me for going out with Jake to begin with
since we both liked him. I didn’t want to believe her... but.. I don’t know
It was pretty obvious to me, Jake was cheating on Maddie, and she needed to get over
it. “You need to get over it Maddie.”
“I’m sorry I’m dumping all my problems on you, it’s just that... you’re
“And I’m willing to listen; you know that I’ve always liked you. Jake was just
using you and I think he got enough and just...is dumping you.”
“But- I thought we had something! I thought we had chemistry and genuinely liked me
for me!” Her eyes were filling up with tears.
“Come on Maddie, let’s go take a walk.” I said, but she looked doubtful for a
We headed out of the hotel into the dark, until a couple blocks later we sat down at
a bench lit by a streetlight. Maddie was silent the whole time tears streaming down
her face, probably thinking about her beloved Jake.
Suddenly, “Thank you so much for being here Zack. And for understanding my
I shrugged as to say, “I don’t mind” but Maddie reached over and gave me a hug,
one that she apparently needed.
She looked at my face, and next thing I know, she’s leaning in towards me, and her
lips touch mine. At first, I’m really surprised, but a few seconds later, I
recover, knowing this was my chance to finally be with Maddie- so **** off Jake,
Maddie Fitzpatrick is all mine now.
We were still kissing a few minutes later, a lot more intensely now, and I start to
move my hands from around her waist to more...upwards... before I remember that
we’re on a d*** public bench and we shouldn’t be doing that here. But she was now
sort of on my lap, so I didn’t really complain too much. Finally, when we were both
out of breath, she pulled away.
“I really should head home now, thanks again Zack.”
I grinned at her, her lip-gloss still all over my lips and said, “No problem.”
I watched Maddie hail a taxi, and I turned and headed back to the hotel, knowing that
I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on homework.
So when I go to the hotel, I grabbed my books from the lobby couch, still grinning,
and unlocked the door, to see Cody watching the Discovery channel like the geek he
really was. He looked up at me.
“Nice lip-gloss Zack,” he said sarcastically.
“Thanks” I said. But then I added with a smirk, “It’s Maddie’s.”
Cody sat up. “Maddie? As in the girl you’ve lusted after for...years? Maddie
“The one and only. And I didn’t just lust after her, I actually have liked her
this entire time. Not just because she’s hott.”
Cody looked at me strange. “Really... and I thought you would never say that. And
actually mean it.”
“Well I do.”
“Aren’t you gonna wipe the lip-gloss off your face?”
“Not until I need to, it still tastes like Maddie” I was grinning again, and
headed for the door to our bedroom. I don’t even think I would get out my razor
myself that night, all thanks to Maddie Fitzpatrick. Maybe my cutting days were
I felt my blood run cold from the shock of it all. All I did was come down to the
empty lobby to go buy a candy bar from Maddie, and perhaps ask her out properly, and
then maybe kiss her senseless… but someone got there first.
Jake was there now, apparently they made up. I wonder what excuse he fed Maddie; it
must’ve been really good for her to believe it. Or maybe she just wanted to believe
it. The girl is probably freaking in love with him.
When Jake pressed his body against Maddie’s against the candy counter, I cleared my
throat loudly. The sickening couple finally pulled apart, and Maddie turned to see
who it was. When she saw me, she blushed slightly, to have been caught.
Jake looked at the time on his cell phone and said, “Gotta go, hott stuff.”
Maddie grinned at him, as he left.
I looked at her skeptically. “Hott stuff? That’s even worse than my old ‘sweet
“I think it’s cute!”
“You didn’t when I used to call you sweet thang!”
“Well… you were only 13!”
I angrily changed topics to something more important. “So… I see you and Jake are
“Yeah! Thanks for comforting me yesterday, even though it turns out Jake was in
Dallas with his sick grandmother and couldn’t call me. You’re such a great
Sick grandmother in Dallas? Maddie walked around the counter to give me just a
friendly hug. But I took a step back, not letting her touch me.
“Friends?” I said shakily. “After last night…just friends… You know what?
Fine, I tried to convince myself that you weren’t just using me last night, that we
had something… but now I know that I was just a rebound. That you really don’t
give a s*** about how I feel.”
“Zack…” Maddie said with a small look of hurt in her eyes. “I wasn’t using
“What would you call it then?” She took a step closer to me, and my heartbeat
started to get faster. I hated it.
“I... don’t know…”
“You know I’m freaking in love with you, you just can’t do that to me, I have
enough going on in my life right now!”
“Like what?” Maddie sounded slightly concerned… yeah right. She doesn’t have
to fake it. It’s obvious she really doesn’t care, as long as she’s happy.
“You know what? Forget that. Forget you.”
I turned away, without the chocolate bar I came down for, and headed to the elevator,
as quickly as possible to escape Maddie, with one thing on my mind. I needed my
I ran into the suite. “Mom? Cody?” I called out. No answer. Good. Now I can get
straight to work.
I went into the bathroom, and searched for a razor. I found one, so I snapped it in
half, and gently took out the fresh sharp blade, and blindly slit my wrist multiple
times, ignoring the other scars all over my wrist. The blood spilled out freely,
leaking down my arm and onto the floor, reminding me of kool-aid. I switched arms,
and did the same thing, but slower, so I could enjoy the sensation better. I loved
the feeling, of being in control, watching the blood continuously spill onto the
floor. I wanted to let all the blood pour out- it was such a refreshing feeling, so I
made a couple more cuts, but then I realized I would probably kill myself if I
didn’t stop the blood flow, so after a few minutes, I regretfully pressed a black
towel (so no one could see any blood stains) to my wrists hard, stinging in pain.
Eventually the blood stopped, and I could clean the blood up off the floor.
Suddenly, I felt drained. I always did after I cut myself, because of all the blood
loss. Sometimes I feel as if it’s the best part, feeling so woozy and tired that I
have no choice but go to sleep and forget about my sad life.
And it’s even more depressing that my life really isn’t that bad. I live in a
luxury hotel, I have a mom and brother, and I have friends. But I can’t shake the
depression… or the habit of slicing open my wrists. I like it too much to stop. I
like my friendship with blades, and my interest in blood. Ok, so I’m a little
messed up. A lot messed up. Most people cry when they’re upset, or even drink, but
no, not me. I have to be abnormal. The messed up twin.
I crawled into bed, and passing out almost immediately.
I woke up again, at three in the morning. This was the absolute worst part about
cutting. Waking up again, and having it all rush back to you. Not just the most
recent thing, but everything- life. The most painful being dad’s death and my most
recent incident with Maddie.
Normally dad would be the one I could call in the middle of the night, just to ask
him a question about relationships, girlfriends, or even just support, or to hear his
voice. But he was gone now, and there’s nothing I could do to get him back, no
matter how many doses of extacy I can take- the ‘happy pill’, most call it- and I
Waking up again means remembering that I am a screw up and am going no where in life,
will never be anyone, and never have a purpose. I can’t ever measure up to Cody,
even though mom says not to compare myself to him, she does constantly. It causes a
sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and won’t leave, knowing I’ll probably
die and no one will really notice, since I really am a screw up and everyone knows
Suddenly, I sat up in bed, wondering if John was out on Gristol Street tonight. He
usually sold extacy cheap enough for me to buy it.
That drug aka the ‘happy pill’ lets me be happy for about 6 hours, its amazing.
Of course the after effects I hear aren’t the best, but screw that. It’s supposed
to cause anger, violence, and depression mainly. Um, hello? That’s me in a
nutshell, so when I first took it I figured I had nothing to lose. Plus, I was going
to have to die somehow (probably sooner rather than later), whether it be ODing or
accidentally slicing open an artery.
Without thinking, I was already pulling on my jeans, and sneaking out of the suite so
I wouldn’t wake Cody or mom. But in the lobby, I ran into someone I didn’t
Moseby. He was organizing the welcome desk and looked up when he heard me. He walked
over to talk to me, with a suspicious look on his face.
“Zack? What are you doing going out this late? Three o’clock in the morning? Does
your mother know?”
What could I say? If I said yes, he’d know I was lying. “Not exactly….”
“That’s what I thought. March right back up to your suite, young man.”
I looked at him like he was crazy, and turned to walk towards the exit. He can’t
control what I do.
He grabbed my wrist, to stop me from leaving. “You aren’t going out this late,
He tightened his grip on my wrist, and I hissed in pain. Normally it wouldn’t hurt
at all… but the gashes I made in my arms earlier today….
He looked at me curiously when I made a sound of pain, so he loosened his grip and
I looked to see what he was looking at. There was blood through my T-shirt. My heart
dropped down to my stomach, I was sure it stopped beating, since my breath came to a
halt. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them again, I focused on
something to the left of Mr. Moseby’s head, slightly dizzy. He was going to find
out about the cuts on my arm.
“You’re bleeding through you’re shirt, it must be a bad cut. Let me take a look
at it.” I tried to pull my arm away from him, but he held on. Mr. Moseby pulled up
my sleeve caringly, and I continued to stare, perfectly still, at the object to the
left of his head.
I heard him gasp, and I didn’t move, with a vacant look on my face. I didn’t
answer when he asked questioningly and shocked, “Zack?”
As if I would tell him why I did it. I don’t think he expected me to, either.
Finally, after a pregnant pause, he said, “you know I’ll have to tell your
With that, I broke away from him, and ran out the door into the night. It seemed like
I was always running these days. I run away from my problems, I ran away from Maddie,
I run away from my family, and I’m running now.
Life was going too fast for me to keep up. I wanted to always stay a kid, I didn’t
want to live in a world with death, and heartbreak, and expectations of me, and
suicide, and depression. I hated how nothing was really wrong with my life, but I
made small things into something big, and now look what happened…
Mom will find out about my cutting, and Cody, and then my friends and my life will be
even worse…before I knew it I was at the bench that Maddie and I were at two nights
I sat down, and put my head put my head in my hands. I couldn’t help it, but I let
out a small sob, I couldn’t help but… cry. It was all too much to bear in one
I kicked the chair impatiently, sitting in a stuffy pyschologist office that smelled
strongly of cigars and mints. “I’ll understand. I won’t judge you, I deal with
cases like yours all the time” were the ****ing psychologist’s exact words. And I
absolutely loved his look when he read the saying on my shirt. “You say psycho like
it’s a bad thing.” Mom thought it was highly insensitive to wear to a
therapist’s office. Why do you think I chose it?
It’s been five days since Moseby told my mom about the cuts on my wrists. I hated
it, the tears, the shock, the questions of WHY did I do it?… can’t they just
leave me alone? At least only mom, Moseby and Cody know. I only have to deal with
their sympathetic, frightened stares, and concerned faces when they think I’m
looking the other way.
I hate how if I’m in the bathroom for more than two minutes Cody comes and checks
on me. Asking if I’m alright, and making sure I’m not slicing open my wrists.
Keeping a boy trapped like this is the one thing that will guarantee him into
thinking he wished he actually took his life. Confinement, just like some sort of
“So Zachary, have you been on any drugs or drinking?” my loving psychologist
I stared at him blankly. He sighed. “Mr. Martin, I know how hard teenage years are,
trying to find how you fit in and such, but you shouldn’t turn to the party
I looked at him with a pitying look. “Look, sir” I said mockingly. “You and I
both know that you shouldn’t be counseling me. You’re too used to cases of
mentally insane patients that actually want to talk. Because I’m sure you can
relate to weak minded clients such as those.”
He made a small note on his clipboard on his desk probably about my rudeness, and I
started kicking the legs of his chair noisily again. “So how about this, Mr.
Expert. Why don’t you tell me about your teenage partying experience?”
“I-well- it’s not typical in a therapy session… but…-”
I cut him off. “Never been to one of those parties? I’m not surprised. I
haven’t either. So I’m sure that I just destroyed your only theory of the cause
of my depression and substance abuse. But I have done drugs, to answer your question.
By myself. No one to influence me. I found thedrug dealermyself, his name is John, I
bought the extacy, and I was all happy and got high by myself.”
I smiled shrewdly. “You know, you can’t legally tell my mom any of this. It
isn’t life threatening, I made no claims of doing drugs now. And if you tell her, I
can sue you for every penny your life is worth because, although I'm still a minor,
this session is confidential.”
“So Zackary, how do you feel before every time you cut yourself? What leads you to
inflict self harm?” Dr. Brown asked uncomfortably.
Unfortunately for him, I noticed his discomfort of the thought of cutting. “Scared
of me? Scared of my cuts? Want to see them?” Before the therapist could answer, I
rolled up my sleeves and exposed my forearms, countless scars, scabs, and recent cuts
exposed. The man looked away, shifting in his seat. It was too easy.
Lucky for me, I now had leverage against my new psychologist.
Dr Brown continued, obviously disturbed. “So, Zackary, when was the first time you
I wasn’t looking at him anymore, but rather intently at my still exposed wrists,
picking at a scab without any attempt to hide it. “Oops! I just made it bleed! I
wouldn’t want to get any of my cursed blood on your chair! –oh, what did you say
Dr. Brown?” I smiled innocently. “Oh, around fourteen years old. Now if that’s
all—” I stood to leave.
“No! That most certainly is not all! Mr. Martin, sit back down now!”
I am blanking out this part because zack is pretending to be gay and is freaking the
therapist out, and I don't apreciate some of the this he says.
I heard my mom’s voice outside the door. “Zacky? Sweetheart? Is the session
over?” The next FREAKING time she calls me sweetheart, I’m going to hurt someone.
Lucky for her, it’ll probably be me I’m hurting. I grinned cynically, thinking of
the cuts on my arms.
Dr. Brown began to speak to my mom. “Carrie? Here’s some Prozac for Zackary, an
anti-depressant, and a number for a teenage therapist.” I smiled