someone else

It's a little hazy, I don't remember all of it. Parts fade in and out of the black.

"Do you know what I did?" Jude yelled it though I was only about three feet away from him. "I burned my leg. I went into the bathroom and burned my leg, that's what I fucking did." 

He'd pulled this bullshit before-- "Do you know what I did? I thought about killing myself." "Do you know what I did? I sat here with a bottle of pills." "Do you know what I did?"-- and after everything, I was fucking done with it. It was a low blow move and he knew it, and since we'd gotten to this point already I decided that boundaries were officially obsolete. 

I closed the space between us, raised my hand and swiped it across his face as hard as I could. His glasses flew against the wall and on to the floor, and I watched as his body twisted and fell to its' knees. 

"Yeah? You burned yourself? Well, since I was going to do it anyway, at least I can teach you how to do this properly, you son of a bitch." I turned around and marched down the hall, flipping on the bathroom light and leaving the door open. "Get in here and watch." I pulled a razor from my secret spot in a small cubby above the toilet and raked it across my leg seven times, the shortest slash is still longer than my middle finger, all of them as wide as the wire of a hanger. My thigh was instantly caked with blood, the scarlet dripping in waves to the floor like a battle had been fought there. My foot slipped a little as the beads slid their way under my heel, but I remember being enamored for a moment by how beautiful it was against the black and white tile.

We continued screaming until I was left alone in the room with my thoughts.
There's a window above my bathtub. I sat on the edge of the white cast iron and stared up at the bit of sky I could see through the glass; the sun was rising, clouds were sparse and were simply whisps tinged with pink in the sky. It was beautiful. I found myself with blood running down my leg, tears streaming down my face, lost in thought and looking skyward. 

I loved it, not for it's implications to God but simply because it was. The science of it all ran through my mind; I wondered if I was a Godless animal, and I was torn between my old faith and my new lack of it. "We are all God," I whispered in my mind, and in that statement I felt lost. Somewhere an old habit told me to pray and find my Savior, but the memory of the day I swore myself from such a logic-less torture refused to let me; I found myself mumbling "Goddess", but it was hollow and meaningless and I felt truly alone.

There is no salvation, no peace, no rest for the wicked.