I feel like a stranger in my own home and they’re making me feel like a stranger in my own skin

“i think I should eat more red meat,” I say to myself, my forehead colliding with the ground in a spray of blood.

you didn’t give me a safeword

desperation

you don’t gotta forgive me

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” She leaned forward in her seat with a suddenly not-so-amused look in her eye, though her smile was the same. “I’m going to drag you around back, throw you onto the concrete, and beat your goddamn brains out. I won’t wear gloves.”

“this isn’t funny.” I gripped the legs of my pants and stared at her. “I’m not trying to be funny. You think I’m trying to be funny?” I looked between her eyes. The smile was her default. “I’m going to murder you. Do you understand me? You are going to fucking die.”

all I ever wanted was to be honest. to be real. that’s why I made an entire blog about this. I know you’re getting better. I don’t know if I am.

Your arms are bruised

They’re battered

They’re scarred

You mangle your wrists

As a form of art

I wish you could see

How this affects me

You close yourself off

And I weep in your stead

Because I know what’s going on

And I fear that you’re dead

It follows me, it seems

Those I love most

Hate themselves

They all fucking hate themselves

And I’m so sick of writing poetry about how badly I want to help people when none of them want the help

I want you to talk to me but I know I won’t be able to stay healthy if you do

And I feel fucking horrible for saying this but I just don’t even know how I could help anyway

Please stop hurting yourself

I have been crying for the past twenty minutes because of what she told me about you

I want you to know so badly that I care

I care so much about you. I have since freshman year biology

Ever since I told you about that stupid fucking fanfiction I wrote in sixth grade and you laughed with me

I just want you to talk to me before you slip like this

I’m so tired but I will always make time for you to talk to me if it means you won’t cut yourself anymore. I love you so much. please tell me how I can help you.

It was a house I’d seen in a dream before. Vanessa lived in this one instead of the one she lives in now. We lived somewhere deep in the woods on a gravel path in a small line of houses. Dad was trying to tell me about how he’d been wanting to try and make friends with our neighbors but he’d been unsuccessful. He finally had something happen with our neighbor to the right and he was out on the gravel path with me and three of our neighbors to thhe left approached us and asked what was going on. He mentioned something horrible about our neighbor to the right and instantly the three began marching over to the house to I assume kill the neighbor, and I followed them to the gate next to the house. It lead back into what I assume was a farm: I didn’t go any further, and dad disappeared. None of the family was there and I went back home. I waited around to see if those neighbors would be walking back, but after twenty minutes with nothing I started freaking out. I tried climbing the steps outside to enter our house through daphnes room but it kept leading me to other spots in the house. I knew that dad had gone witrh wyatt to look for the neighbors at this point, and I was crying. I got inside and kept trying to call the neighbors (not sure how I had their number) but it would only ring for two seconds and hang up. I was still scared to death and I wouldn’t stop calling. Ten tries later Daphne had come in the living room and was sitting across from me and was trying to help me figure what had happened and then I called again and dad picked up instead of the neighbors. We talked for a minute and I started yelling out of fear but then his line cut out. Ten seconds later he sent a text telling me to get outside and hide under dirty water. He said there was a lake in the back yard, but do NOT touch any of the salmon. I responded with “WHAT??” Twice and he kept telling me to, and the third message he sent was a crude crayon drawing of what I assume was the “farm” at trhe end of the path behind the gate. There were black scribbles in various spots. He then responded with three separate texts immediately after, saying “Dead”, “Gone”, and something else about how the neighbors to our left had been slaughtered and left on display. I then realized that that was only there for my dad and Wyatt to see because they were going to be murdered next. I sent back a bunch of texts trying to get them to leave and all of them were left unopened. I tried calling but they immediately went to voice mail. I woke up after I realized we were all going to die

I dreamt she had a sister who I was friends with for some reason

The entire dream my only personality trait was doormat fyi because she invited me to her house to sleep over and I knew Eliza would be there but I said yes anywa

And me and this sister were in her garage doing something and Eliza came in from school and it was so awkward because she didn’t say anything but I knew she was staring at me

I just looked down and smiled at the floor and pretended I didn’t know she was there

I was “fine” for a while until I heard her talking in the other room and Eliza had a very specific, nasally, feminine (in a sexual way) voice that makes me sick when I think about it now

And I called my dad in this dream to come pick me up because I suddenly realized holy fuck I’m at Eliza’s house again

I walk out of the garage and we aren’t on her culdesac anymore. The house is in the middle of a massive clearing in some forest

There are cattle far away and everything and there’s a river I can hear

There’s a long dirt driveway and I don’t know where I am all I know is that I’m far far away from home and I’m at Eliza’s house

Eliza watched me the entire time I don’t know where the hell she was but she was staring at me her sister came out and offered for us to go swimming in the river. I said yeah sure, we could go tomorrow morning (she didn’t know I’d called my dad)

But wherever I was, I was so far away my dad couldn’t come get me that night

He drove for hours and didn’t get there until around 8 the next morning

And so I stayed awake and I stayed outside alone, watching out over the pasture and the cattle and listening to the river and the sun never set

I remember the late nights on the fourth of July when me, you, and dad would sit outside and set off fireworks. My hair was long, then. My hands were perpetually sticky with residue from the s’mores we made every year. The roof of my mouth was always caked with the distinct grubby creaminess of marshmallows. Dad, in his sandals and cargo shorts and white tanktop would set off the best fireworks he could find. He’d always drive up to Tennessee to buy them because those were always better than the ones you could get in Gadsden. I remember the time we were sitting in the garage, and my dad was setting up a bottle rocket to blow, but it fell over and shot right at us. You were really mad at him, and you screamed and ran inside. I only freaked out so badly because you did, and we stayed inside for a while. I felt bad for him because he knew it wasn’t that big of a deal. We did end up going back out and finishing the set. The neighbors would always come out to watch from their porches and driveways. It was so loud each time, but We would always giggle and gawk at all the big ones. I remember sitting in your lap until I was too big to do it. You would sit me down and wrap your arms around me while I watched. Sometimes I would doze off, but the next firework would wake me up. Jared and his family would come up to the fence to watch the fireworks when they got really good. I wonder if any of them knew what you were like outside of the rec league softball coach. I didn’t know a lot of things about you, then. I wouldn’t for a long time. I thought your friends were cool. I liked when you would take me out with you to go see them. They were always fun and played with me, I remember listening to them more than I did you.

My dad to this day gets uncomfortable when I mention your friends, though. I don’t remember much about them, but I’m sure he does. They listened to trashy music when they came over and they were loud. At the time, I thought that was really cool. All the adults that I knew were stuck up and listened to country music. I liked your friends. They liked me. I know one of them liked my dad. It was after you had gotten arrested, of course, but he invited her over when I was gone for the weekend. Revenge, I’m assuming. Everyone knew you had done it too when you were out. I didn’t, though. I was home alone for an hour or so every day until you got home late and locked yourself in your room. You didn’t very much enjoy spending time with me it felt. Did you realize what you were doing at the time? I was about 8 then. Could I have defended myself if someone were to break in while you were in Glencoe shooting heroin? You would leave in the middle of the night. You wouldn’t pick me up at the bus stop anymore. People noticed.

That’s why I had to be dropped off at Gaga’s instead. That never changed your behavior, though. It stayed the same and eventually you stopped coming to get me. I’d spend the night there and she’d drive me to school in the morning and if I was lucky dad would come to get me that night. I began to grow bitter. Gaga asked me a lot about what happened to the old me, and that was not a question I knew how to answer. I took every opportunity to go to someone else's house on the weekends.