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Vic

"Vic, baby,"

I feel myself being shaken awake as Kellin's soft voice eases me out of sleep.

As my eyes crack open, I notice the throbbing in my head and the dryness in my eyes and throat from crying myself to sleep. The phone call with Kylie screams through my mind and I pray to any god that will listen that it was all a horrible dream. But I know it wasn't.

"Babe," Kellin says louder to get my attention.

"Hmm?" I croak pushing myself from the arm of the sofa.

I hiss as I'm made aware of the ache in my neck.

"I came to save your neck but I think I'm too late." he chuckles sadly. "You're supposed to lay on the pillow, not hug it."

He grabs the pillow that I then realize is still in my arms and puts it behind my neck. He then situates himself where the pillow once was and I hold him tightly, needing the comfort he has always provided me.

"I miss sleeping next to you. Why don't you come to bed tonight? I don't know if I could go another night without you." he says softly.

I feel guilty for leaving him by himself.

"Yeah, okay, sorry." I apologize.

"It's okay." he whispers and kisses my lips. "It's okay to need time by yourself. I'm sorry for snapping last night."

"You have nothing to sorry about. You're perfect, okay?" I remind him.

He giggles and presses his lips back to mine.

The kiss starts off sweet but quickly goes somewhere else and for a second I'm into it. But as quick as the excitement came, it leaves. I feel tired and rundown, not at all in the mood to have sex with my husband, no matter how beautiful he looks in the morning.

His hands begin to push up my shirt so I take his wrists, stopping him.

"Don't you need to go to work?" I ask him, pulling away.

"Yeah, but I can be late." he purrs flirtatiously.

"Don't you need to open though?" I push.

"Someone else can do it." he chuckles before kissing me again, but I quickly push him back.

He looks at me confused so I avert my gaze to my hands that are still gently pressing against Kellin's chest.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly.

I sigh defeated and look back at him.

"I just don't feel like...right now. I'm sorry." I mumble guiltily.

Kellin frowns as he sits up.

"Oh." he whispers.

He goes quiet and looks to the wall. He swallows hard and wraps his arms around himself.

But eventually he looks back to me and nods.

"Yeah, of course. That's okay. I'm sorry, I should have picked up on that. Maybe later?" he suggests.

"Yeah, sounds good." I smile relieved that he doesn't hate me.

"You don't have to do that, you know?" he says suddenly.

"Do what?" I ask confused.

"Be subtle. You can just tell me. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." he smiles sadly.

"Right, sorry. I just didn't want to hurt your feelings." I admit.

"Don't compromise your own comfort for my feelings. I'll be fine." he assures me.

"I know, I just want you to be happy." I whisper.

"I am happy." he beams, then he leans down and kisses me. "I should probably get going. What are your plans for today?"

I shrug. "Haven't thought that far."

"That's okay. Maybe just take it easy today? You look tired." he suggests.

I just nod.

"I love you. I'll see you probably later tonight. Gabe wants to hang for a bit after work. It's been a while since we caught up casually. But I'll definitely be home before dinner." he chirps. "Don't forget to cook those steaks. They're going to go off tomorrow."

"Okay, I love you too." I murmur.

He gives me one last sweet kiss then he's off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I lay on the couch, feeding into my headache, listening to it throb, giving the pain attention. If I'm feeling pain then I'm not thinking about what happened. I'm not thinking about what I've done.

But eventually my headache subsides and I'm left in silence, and the screaming of my thoughts finally breaks through.

A lump builds in my throat and I feel like I can't breathe so I go into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.

As I take a glass out of the cabinet, I notice my hand is shaky. I take a breath to calm myself but it does nothing. I doubt it even makes it into my lungs.

I turn the tap on and fill the glass with water but as I bring it to my lips, it slips from my fingers and falls to the floor.

The world slows down as I watch it shatter against the ash gray floorboards into a million pieces.

Water goes everywhere. Glass goes everywhere. And the simple accident feels like its broken me in two.

I slide down the kitchen counter and put my head in my hands as I begin to cry.

I destroy everything I touch. Everything and everyone I come into contact with ends up bruised or broken. Kellin was raped because of me. Carter is dead because of me. Kylie is grieving because of me. My tio is no longer here because of me.

I want to scream but the lump in my throat won't allow anymore than a whimper so instead I slam my hand into the floor, desperate to expel the anger and shame inside me anyway that I can.

My hand immediately aches and I bring it to my chest cupping it gently. When I glance down, I suddenly notice the blood.

It's pooling into my palm and onto my gray t-shirt. I turn my hand over to discover I have a chunk of glass wedged into my hand.

I pinch the shard between my fingers and slowly slip it out of the laceration. More blood immediately fills the space.

The air on the open wound stings which just makes me want to scream more, but my breathless lungs will not permit it.

The wound continues to bleed and throb as my body signals to my brain that there is something wrong. But I don't do anything. I just sit there and feel it.

The pain feels deserved. And I feel somewhat relieved by it.

If I'm atoning for my wrong doings then my guilt will ease and I will be able to breathe again.

I catch my breath as the cut burns and when the blood clots and the pain begins to numb, I press my fingers to the wound, squeezing it.

I cry out and hiss but don't stop. I need to feel it. I deserve to feel it.

I notice a familiarity to the pain and to the solace it provides me. I look down at the white scars that cover my forearm. I barely notice them anymore. They've been a part of me for so long.

I remember back to when I was a teenager and I was filled with so much sadness and self hatred. It felt a lot like this.

I remember the heartbreak on Kellin's face when he first saw the cuts, and how they ruined what could have been our first kiss and essentially the beginning of a relationship.

I pick up the piece of glass I pulled from my hand. It's smeared in blood, everything seems to be smeared in blood.

I press the tip of my finger to what seems to be the sharpest point. It pricks the skin and a bubble of blood raises to the surface, letting me know that the glass is sufficient for what I need it to do.

I look back to my wrist and make a determined promise to myself. This time Kellin won't find out. I won't let that happen, not again.

And as the blood spills from my body, I watch eleven years of recovery spill down the drain.

--

sorry for the slow updates. just focussing on my mental health at the moment. hope you're all doing well!

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