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Rated: GC · Novel · Sci-fi · #1012902
Black butterflies. They always get their prey...always.
A/N: Sorry for the quick note, but I couldn't fit my whole little teaser in the description box. Anyways, here it is just in case...
Black butterflies; familiars to a new age of Vampires. Beautifully deadly, dangerously alluring. They trick, they lie, the play, they hide, but they always get their prey...always.

~*~*~*~
I was itching again.

It was dark yet still early morning a.k.a 5 am. I couldn’t sleep. I was like this for days, locked in my room at night just sitting…sitting.

I was sitting on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees, cradling my head; I couldn’t stop rocking.

That annoying sensation, the one where you itch to do something you know you shouldn’t, was present once again. Like when you were little and your mom wouldn’t let you have a cookie before dinner, but you just want so badly to reach into that cookie jar and take all the cookies for yourself. Screw dinner, you’d think, but you knew better and sat, waiting. I hate the feeling.

I rocked back and forth slowly chanting ‘I will not cut’ over and over in my head. It wasn’t working, only making the burning, almost overflowing pressure of the hot blood in my veins, worse. I could already imagine what it would feel like to cut right now. The cool, icy blades shining in whatever light was available. They were calling me, I knew, but I kept chanting ‘I will not cut’. I didn’t want to do this.

I stopped rocking, lifting my head to look out my bedroom window. The moon was gone. I couldn’t see it anymore.

Damn.

The itching instantly doubled. My desire to cut was rising, while my will slowly dwindled away. It was only a matter of time, but I still chanted my new mantra in my head.

Minutes passed, but the felt like days. That fuckin’ itch just wasn’t going away. I had to do it, I had to cut.

I stood, not caring anymore about my whole ‘I must stop cutting, it’s unhealthy’ kick I was on. I easily passed from my bedroom to the hallway. My room was in the back of the house, nothing to worry about there. The only problem was walking past my parents’ room. It scared me, always making my heart stop for a good two minutes.

The hallway was pitch black, but I could still see. I walked on my heels to muffle my footsteps. I learned that while I was in band. He was right; your parents don’t hear you coming.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeak!

SHIT!

The freakin’ floor boards creak like hell. I panicked, frozen on the spot. I didn’t move for a good few minutes, I didn’t even breathe.

Nothing. I was safe.

I kept walking making sure to skip the noisy boards past my parents room. ‘Go slow, nice and easy.’

Suddenly, my dad gave a loud snore and I jumped, hardly suppressing a girly scream. Again, frozen on spot.

Wait…. Nothing. Okay. Go.

I kept walking, passing by the last creaking floor board before easily slipping into the bathroom. I quietly closed the door behind me and with it I took a deep breath.

Safe.

I didn’t even have to turn on the light. I knew where everything was. The sink was right next to me; I hardly had to move.

Two steps.

I was at the vanity mirror already opening it and removing the fake wood paneling on the bottom shelf, right corner. I had dug a little hole there a while ago, feeling I needed a new place to hide my blades one night. Good thing I did to, because my dad would’ve found them that morning.

I grabbed a blade from its secret house, and slid to the floor. My hands were shaking so bad, and I was getting an adrenaline rush already. That itch made itself present again by increasing three-fold before I could even get a chance to enjoy the feeling of the cold metal between my fingers. I was frantic, so I eagerly pulled up my sleeve and slashed…literally.

I didn’t feel the cut at first, so I made another right below it. My brain finally registered the pain, and I relaxed; the urge was gone. It felt so good; the pressure was released and now the blood flowed freely from my open wounds.

I sat there in my self-induced ecstasy, my mind clouded yet free. It felt so good. I probably sat there for at least ten minutes feeling the blood run down my arm and cherishing the feeling. Soon though, I felt my wounds start to scab; they weren’t bleeding anymore. I blinked back the haze covering my brain and slowly reached up to turn on the lights. I had to clean my mess up.

I was blinded by the tiny fluorescent suns as they light themselves up. If I were a vampire I would’ve hissed.

I grabbed the gauze from the vanity and slowly wrapped my forearm tightly. I ignored the pain, I knew I had to, and unrolled some toilet paper to wipe up the blood on the floor. I used my foot, and then just flushed it down the toilet.

I exited the bathroom, turning the lights off in the process. I didn’t try to hide that fact that I was awake now; no one would mind me going to the bathroom. You had to do what you had to do.

I didn’t sleep that night and it sucked. The sun had already made its presence known to me at around 6; it was noon. I was faking sleep, since I didn’t seem to be getting anything else of the sort. But I was sick of it. I rolled over and yelped.

Wrong arm you idiot.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to ignore the searing pain and the warm stuff running…down my…arm….

FUCK!

I whipped my arm out and rolled up the sleeve. The gauze was just starting to turn a black color.

Did I really cut that deep? Aw hell.

I sat up to examine my bed. Great, there were huge bloodstains on my sheets. I got up and almost ripped the sheets off my bed. The mattress wasn’t ruined at least. I pulled the comforter over my mattress and threw the stained sheets to the floor. I’d have to bleach them soon.

Shaking my head, I walked to the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it behind me, then took off my shirt slowly. It hurt; damn.

I took off the gauze, then one-handed I took off the rest of my clothes. I needed a shower. I turned the water on, and while I waited I inspected my arm.

Two bright red cuts screaming red, revealing the red underneath my skin. They were bleeding again, the blood bubbling up to the surface slowly, almost…hypnotizing. Yeah, defiantly too deep. I don’t think they’ll heal on their own. I sighed. This sucked.

I checked the water for my shower, then pulled back the curtain stepping in. Hot water instantly stung my skin and cuts; I almost yelled, but I bit my lip. I had to start washing these cuts or else they’d get infected. That task proved very hard, no matter how many times I’ve did it.

Finally clean and not so refreshed, I turned the water off and stepped out. I turned to get a towel out of the closet; yes they’re in the bathroom. I dried myself off, purposely missing my entire left arm. I grabbed for the gauze, we were going to need more. I unrolled it and bandaged my arm tightly once again.

Damn, I don’t have a shirt.

I opened the bathroom door a crack and peeked out.

No one.

I took a deep breath, held it, and ran. I made it to my room. I sighed. Now I had to deal with these sheets. But before that…I dropped the towel I was holding firmly at my waist and went to the closet. I found my black hoodie with a picture of The Missing on it and jeans. I had some trouble getting the hoodie on, but everything else ended all right.

Sheets. Argh.

I gathered them up in my arms and formed a loose ball with them. I folded them so the blood couldn’t be seen and went downstairs to find no one there. Oh well. I dumped my sheets into the washer, pouring bleach in with them. I started it and left. Back in the kitchen, I got a glass of water and took three painkillers. That’d kill all feeling in my left arm, hopefully.

I threw myself on the couch and was drifting off to sleep for the first time in two days when the doorbell rang.

Damn it all to hell.

I pushed myself up without using my arm and opened the door.

“ALEX!” I was engulfed in a huge bear hug that almost made me scream. I wasn’t surprised, I was just in horrible pain.

“Uh Josh, dude, you’re hurting me.” I barely managed to squeak. Curse your hugs Josh. Curse them to hell.

He was off me in a moment, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t attack me again.

I stepped back so he could come in, and I drifted back to the couch as Josh shut the door behind him. “So, how was your vacation?” I asked almost sarcastically, laying myself back down. Josh just shrugged and plopped down on the oversized chair across from me.

“Hey, you dyed your hair.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks.”

I did dye my hair. It used to be brown, and since Josh had been on vacation all summer, of course he didn’t know about it.

You know, I’m the oddball of my family. It sucks. You see, no one in my family has brown hair or brown eyes. My mom would always joke about me not being her son because I looked nothing like her or my dad. Mike, the oldest, has green eyes like mom, and Wess, the second oldest, had blue eyes like dad. They both have dirty blonde hair too, also like mom and dad. I always hate being the odd one. Josh seemed to be the only one who could even begin to comprehend what I was feeling. He could read me like an open book sometimes.

“I’m gonna miss your brown hair though.”

I blinked. Oh yeah, Josh was still here. “I won’t.” I said quickly. “I’m glad it’s gone.” Josh nodded from his spot across from me. His hair was brown too, though he had ice blue eyes, unlike me. “You should dye yours too.” Josh laughed at that.

“Yeah and get killed.” I gave a faint laugh too. “So where did everyone go?”

“Huh?”

“Your family. Where are they?”

I tried to shrug, and then remembered I was still lying down. “I dunno. They probably ditched me for the mall or something again.” I frowned. “I don’t think they really want me in the family.”

Josh laughed loudly. “What? You think they adopted you or something?”

“Maybe.” Everything was quite for a while, so I started drifting back to sleep.

“Alex, is something wrong?”

I blinked lazily. “Nah just tired. Haven’t slept in two fuckin’ days.”

“Nice one. Want to go to bed then?”

I kinda nodded as I almost fell asleep again. Josh grabbed my hand though and pulled me up. I blinked at him, almost shocked. He just smiled and said, “What? You don’t expect me to carry you do you?” I shook my head. Josh gave a nod of approval, and led me to my room by my hand. Mmm, his hand. It was so warm and comforting, begging me to cling to the arm that it was connected to. Begging me to never let go, and to hold on forever…. “Sheets?”

I frowned. Oh yeah…. “I’m washing them. They smelled funny.” I could tell Josh was rolling his eyes.

“Well, you can deal with them then.” Josh gave my arm a tug, which practically threw me on my bed.

“What the hell was that for?!” I had landed on my arm, and tears were stinging my eyes. That probably gave the wrong impression.

“If you’re gonna cry about it, at least wait until I leave.” Josh said with a smirk.

I knew it. “I’m not gonna cry….” I trailed off extremely tired, then closed my eyes falling into a dreamless sleep.
© Copyright 2005 Hiragawa Yuuka (hikami4065 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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