Behind The Scars
Author's note: My friend and I got bored and started writing this story. I wrote Aria's chapters and my friend... Show full author's note »
AriaScars covered my wrists as I stared blankly at them. My pale skin was bloodstained and I was in awe. My skin cells closed the cuts on my wrists within an hour.
“Impossible.” I muttered, scratching at my wrists with my nails. The dry blood chipped off so I could see the scars better.
“Aria!” my mother screamed from the doorway. I looked down and saw my blood splattered all over the white carpet. Oops. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bathroom, sitting me on the floor
I don’t like being yelled at.
“I had a craving, it was this urge to cut myself.” I tried to explain with a small voice that seemed far away. My eyes focused on the running water. “Don’t worry though, the cuts healed.”
“Healed? What do you mean healed?” She jerked my hand forward and looked at my wrist. A gasp escaped her lips and I pulled my hand back. “No, not now! I prayed to God and gave-up my mortal life!” I ignored her, her words were meaningless to me. Draven told me that my mother wouldn’t understand my cravings.
Mother undressed me and helped me into the tub. Draven told me that mom knew what I was. So why wouldn’t she understand my cravings?
The warm water woke me from my daze, causing my senses to be more alert now.
“What time is it?” I asked absently as my mom handed me a bar of soap.
“The haunting hour” she whispered, “but don’t think you’re going anywhere this late by yourself.”
Tension in the air changed. He was near, he knew I needed a new knife. He would be waiting on my balcony for me after my bath. I quickly washed up and wrapped myself in a towel before walking down the hallway and into my room. I dressed myself in a slimming black dress and shut my door.
Turning to my French double doors, I grabbed the money off my desk and stepped out onto the balcony. Damon stood there, his muscular frame drawing me closer to him. His royal blue eyes looked me over, a smile playing on his smooth lips.
“I thought I heard your mom yell at you.” He chuckled, wrapping his left arm around my waist.
“Yeah, well…” I showed him my wrists. Damon nodded and understood. He brought out a knife from his pocket and handed it to me. The silver handle of the knife had a few gems sticking out for a better grip. I held out the money.
“No.” He whispered, pushing the money away before pressing his lips against mine. I kissed him back, until my mother rudely interrupted.