When It Hurts
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Green Day
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,343
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Green Day
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,343
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Green Day. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part Two
When It Hurts
It seems like a dream now, my sin. It feels like I'm going to fall apart, spend the rest of my life going through emotions.
I pull on clothes, getting ready for school. I want to skip but at the same time I want to see Mike. I want him to hold me even though I know he's going to hate me.
I feel like there should be mark on my face.
I still feel my face stinging where it slipped out of my mouth, spilling onto my skin. I still fear my tear stains and the tears now prickling my eyes. My throat still hurts. My eyes are burning with the image. I want to peel my skin off and rip my eyes out.
Instead I walk to the bathroom, shove my fingers down my throat, and vomit into the bowl. It tasted better coming up and I didn't think that was possible.
My mother knocks on the door. "Billie?" Her voice is concerned and I feel even more dirty. I don't deserve concern. "Are you sick?"
"Just a cough." I answer. I don't want her to keep me home from school. I need to hide myself in the mass of nameless faces.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Mom."
After she's gone I unlock the door and open the bathroom window, slipping out and making sure it closes. I don't want them to see me. Especially Mom. She always seems to know.
I walk to school, letting the December wind bite at my face.
At least it's helping to blow away the sin.
It seems like a dream now, my sin. It feels like I'm going to fall apart, spend the rest of my life going through emotions.
I pull on clothes, getting ready for school. I want to skip but at the same time I want to see Mike. I want him to hold me even though I know he's going to hate me.
I feel like there should be mark on my face.
I still feel my face stinging where it slipped out of my mouth, spilling onto my skin. I still fear my tear stains and the tears now prickling my eyes. My throat still hurts. My eyes are burning with the image. I want to peel my skin off and rip my eyes out.
Instead I walk to the bathroom, shove my fingers down my throat, and vomit into the bowl. It tasted better coming up and I didn't think that was possible.
My mother knocks on the door. "Billie?" Her voice is concerned and I feel even more dirty. I don't deserve concern. "Are you sick?"
"Just a cough." I answer. I don't want her to keep me home from school. I need to hide myself in the mass of nameless faces.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Mom."
After she's gone I unlock the door and open the bathroom window, slipping out and making sure it closes. I don't want them to see me. Especially Mom. She always seems to know.
I walk to school, letting the December wind bite at my face.
At least it's helping to blow away the sin.