Chapter Two - Tourniquet

"I tried to kill my pain, but only brought more"

        My mother was known to smother me. I was pressured to walk in her shoes on a daily basis. Who wouldn't desire copying her wonderful traits? She was intelligent, beautiful, and independent. It bothered everybody in our path that I was the polar opposite. You wouldn't think an angel like her gave birth to a hideous demon.  It wasn't like I never had the bright idea of following her ideal ambitions she preached. At school, I was repeatedly ridiculed by teachers over my performances I once thought were over the top. I tried, and I was shoved off the ladder I was desperately trying to climb.

       I couldn't reach the stars my mother drew out for me. 

       I eventually came to the harsh conclusion that I wasn't skilled at anything. When I focused on my writing, a hobby I had overwhelming passion for when my days were brighter, I'd end up crumbling my words and tossing them in the garbage bin where my creations belonged. Nothing I did was good enough to shine in their eyes.  At the start of high-school, with the depression rotting my brain away, I picked up the habit of tearing apart my skin in the comfort of my bathtub. I created a sick obsession the first time I mishandled my father's razor blade. I'd hurt myself in ways people weren't able to in my horrendous life.

       I had control.

       In a sick way, I believed it was the single thing I did correctly and beautifully. I failed at everything else. I tried to kill off the ache inflicted by their mockful comments and snickers.

       I craved to be numb. It was what I was hungry for. 

      "Lily?" My mom called as I rampaged through the front door. I was wearing the unzipped heavy, dark jacket that she bluntly despised. Since I was the size of a pencil, she noted I looked homeless, and somebody who skipped school just to smoke cigarettes in an alleyway. 

      I halted my feet from strutting up the stairs to my room. I took an exhausted stomp back, sighing out miserably.

    "Yes, mother?"

     She was lingering at the edge of staircase, She wore a pout on her youthful face, as her diamond cross upon her neck glimmered with light.  "Did something happen at school today...?"

      Normal students had their parents nagging about homework, I, on the other-hand, came home to a never-ending intervention.

     "No. Mom." 

     She foresaw that dried up, empty answer coming from a million miles away. My father and gross brother finally rolled up to the entrance. My father folded up his Rayburn sunglasses to place on the V part of his shirt. He was rambling on about the exhausting day at work. My mother cut him off midway. "Jake, do you not notice our daughter? She's upset!"

      Drake scoffed over her. "It's a cry out for attention! Don't feed the beast, mom." 

      I squinted my eye at him with no level of patience. "Very funny." 

      My father tilted his head at me, questioning my motives. His eyes resembling the crystal skies above us were a reflection of my own.

     "Did you honestly leave the house looking like that?" Was what my loving father had to say about the belittling subject. 

      "Jake, really?" My mom hissed back.

      My father was almost as inconsiderate as my lousy twin. 

      Drake laughed. He aggressively bumped into me as adventured up the stairs. "Wah. Wah. I have no friends and I wonder why..." Drake mocked in my dolly tone. He disappeared into our side of the house, leaving behind the story of my life.

       I couldn't handle the bullying at school, I wasn't about to stand there and reflect the bullets from my own family; the individuals who were supposed to shelter me from the ugliness of the world.

     "Drake, stop being a jerk! Ugh!" Mom cried out. She was beyond frustrated with the corrupt personalities in this broken household.

      I ran up to my room without an explanation, and slammed the door shut. I was welcomed to an area of darkness and solitude. Clothes were scattered over the tile floor. I had zero energy to pick up anything that was out of place, even though my mother would suffer a heart-attack at the sight of my scattered belongings. Her perfectionist tendencies made her tenser then most parents in those situations.

    Pictures of bands filled my walls, along with dark, but beloved poetry I stumbled upon once in a while on the internet. 

    I rapidly popped my earbuds in. My domain was across from Drake's and it wasn’t long until he'd blast his obnoxious music for our neighbors to hear. 

     I turned up the volume on my Ipod to the max.

     I fell back on my bed, fighting to release a scream that would shatter my lungs. 

    I was desperate for an escape... an unholy one. 

    I scooted up the sleeve of my jacket to reveal the fresh, burning cuts on my petite wrist. I brushed my finger across the rough bumps. 

    Isn't there one person besides my mother who cares? Why am I so alone...? I didn't want it to end this way.

Author's Note

I just want to say that this is based on experiences, yet I do not have a hostile twin brother, nor parents like Lily's. The distress she felt at school was my struggle during public school, along with the dark, edgy way she dressed, and self-harm addiction. Her unstable family was inspired by my friend at the time, who shared her distraught story with me. I combined both our stories to create one beautiful protagonist and a moving novel. Some of the actions in later chapters were non-fiction. Lily IS based on my old time friend. Her name in here is fictional.

Later in the chapters, you will be greeted with Naomi, who is based off ME. I wanted to clear this up and say I had a heart-warming family who assisted me through my downfall. They were full of love even though we had problems of our own. (Naomi's family issues will be mentioned) Let me just say I had a loving sister, mother, and father growing up.

My friend on the other-hand was forced through this hell. I had encountered her family and although her mother was the sweetest thing on earth, it was clear she dealt with depression. (I made her a bit chirpier in Broken Promises). Her father was nice (he was mostly quiet around her friends) but he was barely home. I ended up describing him in B.P based off her P.O.V in real life. She claimed I nailed it. And yes, she truly did have a scum-bag of a twin. I attended high-school with him and he was a real tool. I won't spoil why he was like this and how he turned out.

So thank you so much for taking the time to read!!!I know there's ALOT of grammar mistakes because I didn't take much time to edit. So thank you for pointing them out dolls. :) I had moved from my home-town and this particular woman would be gleeful you're taking this novel to heart.

Also THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORTIVE MESSAGES OVER THE WEEKS!!!!!

Reviews

[747]

"...shoved off the latter..." should be "...shoved off the LADDER..."

You have a few hyphenated words that should simply be compound words.

It's hard to believe that people can be so ignorant and hurtful to their own family. It blows my mind how you could disgrace and disrespect your own blood.

Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself.

[Lavorther]

This is even sadder than the previous one. I just want to reach out to Lily and give her a big hug. Show her that she is special, and that there are people who care.

I did find one small grammatical error ('then' needs to be 'as', because they are equal. Then is used for differences):
"My father was almost as inconsiderate AS my lousy twin."

[Leo]

very sad yet articulate and powerful..to answer your last question: have you ever contemplated the polar opposite of darkness? Light..where do you think light comes from? check out my dark vs spiritual readings and we can converse if u like

[Hakim]

This hurt to read. Very powerful piece