Sutton
Two years. Two years had already passed since my life took a complete turn into the unknown. Had it really been that long? I started thinking back on everything. Replaying it through my mind trying once again to finally figure out how I had missed such an obvious thing. It all seemed perfect to me; perfect that my life has shattered into a million pieces and I couldn't fix it. Perfect.
I looked down at my scarred hip and felt a sense of shame but also peace. I continued to stare as I took the knife to it, yet again. As soon as I felt the sharp blade on my skin I felt the release coming. The more I bled the more peace I found. I was in a state of almost pure bliss as I watched the blood pour out of my new wound. I could finally breathe again.
I started cutting about two and half years ago. I did it at first just to feel something, anything. It was six months before my wedding to my fiancΓ© who had started to ignore me, not talk to me, and not touch me. I never felt more ugly, unloved, and unworthy in my whole life. Though at the time, I was too busy planning my wedding to actually realize this. I thought it was just stress and pre-marriage jitters. The feelings kept up and I finally realized them when he took
her
, his ex girlfriend whom he knew I hated, on vacation with him. He didn't bother to tell me this, mind you. His brother did. Asshole. God, I was so oblivious to the whole thing. So caught up in my wedding planning to see what was right under my nose. I called off the wedding, five weeks before the day. It was so humiliating to call the venue, the caterer, the florist, and all my friends and family and tell them that it was cancelled. All the questions and poking and prodding was enough to make me go insane. And the final straw was my dress. My perfect, beautiful dress. I still had one more fitting. I had to go and try it on one last time, they wouldn't give it to me otherwise. So here I am, recently ex-bride, in the fitting room with my dress on, sobbing. Thank God my best friend was there or I would have had a full fledged panic attack right then and there. The months following my break up, I cut every single day. My left hip and thigh for the most part. The scars grew and my pain subsided. Now cutting is the only way I can find emotional release. It frees my mind.
After the break up, I was a changed person. I withdrew from my friends and my family and took comfort in my own solace. I had a job as a bartender in some swanky hotel, which meant working nights and sleeping during the day. It was the perfect job for someone who wanted to avoid facing people I know and who just wanted to hide. Which I did.
I have given up on meeting someone. I don't want anyone to know about me, my past, or my scars. So I date around, but never anything serious. I flee before that can happen again. I never want to experience those feelings again. I don't put myself in the position to ever be hurt again. I built so many walls and completely hardened my heart. I shut everyone out. My friends eventually gave up on me; except for a few, whom I love dearly. They try to get me back into the world but I think their patience is running out. I know they are just trying to help me, but I don't want to be helped. I'm not meant to be happy. Plus even if I did meet someone, how would I explain the scars? They would call me a freak or be disgusted that I could do that to myself. The scars are ugly and remind me of my failures, but they are also beautiful and bring me peace. But how could anyone else see that? They wouldn't.
Jace
"Jace! Jace man I know you're home! Open up!"
I groaned as I rolled of my couch. Was it too much to ask to sleep in? It was finally the weekend and I came home from work yesterday and just crashed. It had been such a long day yesterday. I had a tough client come in and complain about pretty much everything I had done, so I had to redo the entire blueprint. I'm an architect for one of the largest firms in the city, Jameson & Breck. My current client is Amanda Breck, the bitch wife of the CEO. I had been hand selected for the project by Mr. Breck himself because I had the most skill; and he thought I could "handle" his wife's attitude.
My internal ranting was cut off by the sound of my front door being pounded on and the familiar voice of my best mate Bentley.
"Hey Ben, what's up?"
"Did you forget? Tonight is the big race! How could you have forgotten?! I have been planning this ever since I heard about it..." He kept talking as I internally berated myself for forgetting and for saying I would go. Bentley was a huge race fan and there was going to be a big international race this whole weekend at the track just outside the city. Apparently it was a once in a lifetime thing and he would never get this opportunity to witness such an event again. I hated racing. I liked the cars sure, but I am more of a football guy.
"Jace. Seriously. Go pack, we need to go soon."
We were staying at a resort just a few miles down the road from the tracks. The resort was apparently home to one of the best vineyards and golf course in the state. I had never been, so it seemed like fun. There were two bars and seven different restaurants on the property, as well as a nature trail, and spa. If all else failed, I could get in a nice run and massage. Or maybe just get drunk for three days.
Bentley loaded up the car and was pumped about our "man weekend". I was just as excited to get away from work for three days and spend time with my friend.
Bentley and I had been best friends since high school. We played on the football team together, dated cheerleaders, and hung out with the same group of people. When the time for college came, we both went to the same school, where I studied architecture and he studied engineering. Now we lived about twenty minutes apart but hardy saw each other due to our demanding jobs and his equally demanding girlfriend. We hung out when we could; grab a beer here, catch a game there, but nothing major. This weekend was going to be just us guys, some fast cars, and lots of alcohol.
"Ben, man, I just want to say home excited I am for this weekend. We really need to do this more often."
"I'm excited too J! But don't get all mushy on me!"
"Shut up, dipshit."
Sutton
This weekend was going to be awful. I had to come into work extra early Saturday through Monday at the bar because some dumb race was taking place down the street and our hotel was the prime spot for both the racers and guests to stay. Sure the money would be crazy, but I'm not so sure I could deal with drunk mostly older men for three days straight. Being a young female bartender has its perks, but it also has its downsides. Being harassed and come on to all the time are just a few examples.
"I don't even see the appeal." I said out loud while looking in a mirror getting dressed. Our uniforms were hideous and it did nothing for me. As I was staring at my reflection, seriously considering burning the uniform, my phone started to ring. Scott. The one person at work I loved. He had quickly become a close friend. Well as close as I let him get.
"Sutton! What's up? You ready for tonight? I bet we are going to make bank!"
"Yeah, probably. Too bad we have to deal with the people though, right?" I chuckled.
"Drunks. Gotta love 'em! Hey, imma pick up some pizza for me and you before the shift starts. Cheese right?"
"Right. Thanks Scott, you're a peach."
"Yeah yeah, hippie. See you soon."
Being from the south, Scott was a big fan of meat. Barbeque, steaks, burgers, bacon, bacon, and did I mention bacon? He thought it was an absolute sin and morally wrong that I was a vegetarian. Being a girl born and raised in the south, it was almost sac religious that I didn't eat meat.
When I got to work, Scott and a delicious looking cheese pizza were waiting for me. We had about an hour and a half before we opened, so we ate as we set up.
"Hey Sutton, a bunch of us are going to Seppy's boat after this weekend to hang out and relax after this clusterfuck is over. Wanna come?"
"Nah. I think I'm just gonna sleep. And my mom is coming into town, so I have to play house.", I lied. Wearing a bathing suit was absolutely out of the picture. I can't hide anything wearing a bikini. Also, I had some history with Sep. He was one of the guys I dated for a few weeks, slept with, then ran away from. Sep was a great guy, super attractive, didn't ask why I needed the lights off when we had sex, and treated me well. I felt bad for running, but I couldn't make myself stay. Sep was a chef at one of the restaurants here, and I avoided him to the best of my abilities.