Categories > Original > Drama > My Pain
“Hey, Ronnie?”
“Hey Sophie, what’s up?”
“Would you go check on Lacey at my house? She’s been alone in there all day and I’m worried about her.”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Thanks bro, you’re the best.”
The lights are all off. I’m alone, curled up in the bath tub. The room is windowless. Not even the slightest glimmer of light reaches me here, in my dark place. I hate it here. But I’m scared to leave. Scared of what I might find in the light.
The front door downstairs opens. I know it’s not Sophie because the person coming in is alone, and has heavier footsteps. “Lacey?” he calls. I close my eyes. No, Ronnie, leave me alone.
He starts up the stairs. “Lacey, where are you?”
I don’t make the slightest movement. Maybe he won’t find me if I stay still and silent.
He turns on the light in the hallway. “Better yet, what are you doing?”
I don’t want him to see me like this—so vulnerable, so weak.
“Lacey?” He turns on the light in the bathroom, and my eyes sting. He’s standing in front of me, his gaze sympathetic and loving. I don’t want your sympathy, Ronnie. He turns and pulls out some rubbing alcohol and Band-Aids from behind the mirror. He sits next to me and starts dabbing at my fresh cuts. “Lacey, I know I said you could call me if you needed me.”
“I…” I have nothing to say in my defense.
“Why, Lacey?”
“I can’t stop.”
“Why not?”
“I just…I have to.”
He puts Band-Aids over my wounds. “This,” he says, tapping the arm I’d carved so viciously it put me into the hospital, now a bright red, glaring mark stitched together to keep from bleeding, “is exactly why you have got to stop.”
“And this,” I say, tapping the exact same spot on my arm, “is exactly why I can’t.”
He pulls me into his lap, caressing my hair, repeatedly clearing it out of my face. I close my eyes to keep from crying. I don’t want him here, but if he leaves I’ll die. “This has to stop,” he murmurs. “I’m so scared that you’re gonna kill yourself.” I don’t say anything, just scoot to the left slightly so we’re closer than before.
“Is that proof that I’m right to worry?”
But my thoughts are far away. “When you invited me to church, you said you had a friend you wanted me to meet. Who was it?”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Don’t act like that’s not what you’re doing right now.”
He sighs. “I wanted you to…This is gonna sound really corny, but I wanted you to meet the god that changed my life. I wanted you to know the same kind of joy a relationship with Him brings.”
I don’t say anything. I just sit there, listening to him breathing.
We sit there for hours. I know because I can feel every minute tick by, like the time we have left together is all the time left in my life. He doesn’t move—not even once—and for that I am grateful. He just sits there, his arms around me, not making a sound. I think at some point I fall asleep, because when I open my eyes next Sophie is standing over us, shaking her head.
“You know it’s killing him that you’re still cutting, right?” Sohpie says, brushing out my hair.
“I can’t stop, Sophie. I hate it. But I have to do it.”
She’s silent for a moment before answering. “Lacey, you’ve got to understand that you are not alone.”
“Am I not?” I mumble.
“Lacey, I’m here. Braden’s here. And Ronnie…he’s fallen hard for you.”
I shake my head. “Doesn’t he know I’m not worth it?”
“He disagrees.”
“How do you know what he thinks?”
“I talked to him about it earlier. Do you have any idea how devoted he is? He cares more for you than you will ever know.”
“I’ve heard of that lately,” I mumble.
“Do you believe in God, Lacey?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well I think you better decide.”
Sophie rolls over in her sleep. I sit up in the darkness. I’d decided to sleep in her room tonight because I didn’t think I could bear to be alone. But now I’m desperate for the solitude of isolation. As I move downstairs to my room, I notice the Band-Aids on my arm, shame filling me. I did this to myself.
My body aches. I am exhausted. I feel as if I stand accountable for everything I’ve ever done—and every time I’ve ever cut. The stitches on my arm seem to smile, saying, “see what you’ve done? You’re too late for redemption.” I close my eyes against the sharp pain that nearly consumes me. I can’t breathe. I sink to my knees. If I’m dying, I wish my heart would just stop already. I’m…so…tired…
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m whispering the prayer my mother always used to say as she tucked me in. The Lord’s Prayer, she’d called it. “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever. Amen.”
I close my eyes, and Ronnie telling me to pray flashes behind my closed eyelids. I know how to kill this pain. Now.
“Lord, I give up this life of pain and misery. I need you now. Save me. I am yours. Forever.”
Everything around me stops. The rising despair in me is suddenly gone. My pain leaks away. The peace I felt the night that got me here floods through me. His love wraps around me. I am no longer worthless. I smile, leaning back onto the carpet, and I can’t help but start singing.
“Oh, How He loves us so,
“Oh, How He loves us,
“How He loves us so…”
5 months later
“Lacey!” Ronnie calls at the end of the hall.
I smile, waving, trying to look dignified as I start towards him, but I can’t quite pull it off. Before I know it I’m running, tossing my bag aside, throwing my arms around him. He laughs, picking me up and spinning me around. “I love you,” he murmurs into my hair.
I can’t help but giggle. “I love you too.”
“Come on, losers,” Sophie says, smiling as she grabs my bag off the floor. “If we don’t get out of here soon the good rides’ll have lines a mile long.”
It’s the last day of school. The bus has just rung. Sophie, Ronnie and I are going to the school picnic a few miles from the school.
I haven’t cut in exactly three months. Stopping was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It wasn’t that I still felt like I had to do it. It was just…I got addicted. I couldn’t just quit. But Sophie made an enormous sacrifice to save me from myself—she threw out her razors and started driving me to my daily counseling with Braden. The fact that she cared moved me so much I knew I had to stop—a fact I’d known since that night in early December when I pledged my life to God but hadn’t accepted. But Sophie showed me that she was as devoted to helping me stop as I was.
Last week, I bought her a brand new, extra-fancy and super-expensive set of razors—and I haven’t wanted to use them to cut myself even once. Two weeks ago, I was baptized. Driving myself out of depression was like trying to climb out of an incredibly slippery hole. I had a lot of ups and downs. But every time I felt myself sinking into old ways I had to firmly remind myself a simple truth—that, if nothing else, I was loved by the God of the universe. He’ll hold me when I’m not strong. He’s with me every step on the road to recovery.
I am treasured. I am loved. I am God’s child.
“Hello? Lacey?”
“Yeah?” I look up, realizing I’d been staring at the same spot on Ronnie’s shirt for five minutes.
“All our lockers are cleaned out. Now can we please go?”
I smile. “I was born ready.” I follow her out, dragging Ronnie behind me by the hand.
Time will pass. I will get better. I will start down the path God has set up for me. And I will always, always remember that no matter what, He loves us.
AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME :D
So yes, that was the end right there. No, I am not considering a sequel and yes, I will never do anything else with Ronnie and Lacey. Yes, this is my favorite story that I've ever written and I adore Lacey and Ronnie to the ends of the earth and back. I wish I had more I could do with them, but I don't. Besides, quit while you're ahead, right?
Yes, I did get really churchy with this, and I apologize if you're not into that. If you'd like to discuss the existence (notice I said "discuss" and not "argue over") of God, feel free to message me. I like discussions. :D I've also got lots of really good apologetics (proving the existence of God without the use of the bible--in shortest terms), if you'd like to hear them.
But anyway, my Christianity is not the main reason I wrote this. I wrote this because a huge part of me is devoted to TWLOHA and their cause--and self injury/depression/suicide are a huge problem that suck more and more people down every day. I'm out to do something about it. So please, if you need anything--someone to talk to, a few reasons to keep living, someone to help you quit, please, I beg you, message me. You wouldn't be burdening me. I WANT to help you. It's why I'm here.
Oh, and in the reviews/messages/etc., please be sensitive. Hate Christians? Hate muslims? Hate jews? Hate athiests? Great, take it somewhere else. Do NOT review my story and slander anyone. And I mean anyone. And please, guys, don't argue with me or others. I want people reviewing my stories happy and loving--which all of you are, to an extreme extent. Let's keep it that way, okay? Thank you all for reading and bearing with me on all the stuff I've put you through. I adore you all. So much.
“Hey Sophie, what’s up?”
“Would you go check on Lacey at my house? She’s been alone in there all day and I’m worried about her.”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Thanks bro, you’re the best.”
The lights are all off. I’m alone, curled up in the bath tub. The room is windowless. Not even the slightest glimmer of light reaches me here, in my dark place. I hate it here. But I’m scared to leave. Scared of what I might find in the light.
The front door downstairs opens. I know it’s not Sophie because the person coming in is alone, and has heavier footsteps. “Lacey?” he calls. I close my eyes. No, Ronnie, leave me alone.
He starts up the stairs. “Lacey, where are you?”
I don’t make the slightest movement. Maybe he won’t find me if I stay still and silent.
He turns on the light in the hallway. “Better yet, what are you doing?”
I don’t want him to see me like this—so vulnerable, so weak.
“Lacey?” He turns on the light in the bathroom, and my eyes sting. He’s standing in front of me, his gaze sympathetic and loving. I don’t want your sympathy, Ronnie. He turns and pulls out some rubbing alcohol and Band-Aids from behind the mirror. He sits next to me and starts dabbing at my fresh cuts. “Lacey, I know I said you could call me if you needed me.”
“I…” I have nothing to say in my defense.
“Why, Lacey?”
“I can’t stop.”
“Why not?”
“I just…I have to.”
He puts Band-Aids over my wounds. “This,” he says, tapping the arm I’d carved so viciously it put me into the hospital, now a bright red, glaring mark stitched together to keep from bleeding, “is exactly why you have got to stop.”
“And this,” I say, tapping the exact same spot on my arm, “is exactly why I can’t.”
He pulls me into his lap, caressing my hair, repeatedly clearing it out of my face. I close my eyes to keep from crying. I don’t want him here, but if he leaves I’ll die. “This has to stop,” he murmurs. “I’m so scared that you’re gonna kill yourself.” I don’t say anything, just scoot to the left slightly so we’re closer than before.
“Is that proof that I’m right to worry?”
But my thoughts are far away. “When you invited me to church, you said you had a friend you wanted me to meet. Who was it?”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Don’t act like that’s not what you’re doing right now.”
He sighs. “I wanted you to…This is gonna sound really corny, but I wanted you to meet the god that changed my life. I wanted you to know the same kind of joy a relationship with Him brings.”
I don’t say anything. I just sit there, listening to him breathing.
We sit there for hours. I know because I can feel every minute tick by, like the time we have left together is all the time left in my life. He doesn’t move—not even once—and for that I am grateful. He just sits there, his arms around me, not making a sound. I think at some point I fall asleep, because when I open my eyes next Sophie is standing over us, shaking her head.
“You know it’s killing him that you’re still cutting, right?” Sohpie says, brushing out my hair.
“I can’t stop, Sophie. I hate it. But I have to do it.”
She’s silent for a moment before answering. “Lacey, you’ve got to understand that you are not alone.”
“Am I not?” I mumble.
“Lacey, I’m here. Braden’s here. And Ronnie…he’s fallen hard for you.”
I shake my head. “Doesn’t he know I’m not worth it?”
“He disagrees.”
“How do you know what he thinks?”
“I talked to him about it earlier. Do you have any idea how devoted he is? He cares more for you than you will ever know.”
“I’ve heard of that lately,” I mumble.
“Do you believe in God, Lacey?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well I think you better decide.”
Sophie rolls over in her sleep. I sit up in the darkness. I’d decided to sleep in her room tonight because I didn’t think I could bear to be alone. But now I’m desperate for the solitude of isolation. As I move downstairs to my room, I notice the Band-Aids on my arm, shame filling me. I did this to myself.
My body aches. I am exhausted. I feel as if I stand accountable for everything I’ve ever done—and every time I’ve ever cut. The stitches on my arm seem to smile, saying, “see what you’ve done? You’re too late for redemption.” I close my eyes against the sharp pain that nearly consumes me. I can’t breathe. I sink to my knees. If I’m dying, I wish my heart would just stop already. I’m…so…tired…
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m whispering the prayer my mother always used to say as she tucked me in. The Lord’s Prayer, she’d called it. “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever. Amen.”
I close my eyes, and Ronnie telling me to pray flashes behind my closed eyelids. I know how to kill this pain. Now.
“Lord, I give up this life of pain and misery. I need you now. Save me. I am yours. Forever.”
Everything around me stops. The rising despair in me is suddenly gone. My pain leaks away. The peace I felt the night that got me here floods through me. His love wraps around me. I am no longer worthless. I smile, leaning back onto the carpet, and I can’t help but start singing.
“Oh, How He loves us so,
“Oh, How He loves us,
“How He loves us so…”
5 months later
“Lacey!” Ronnie calls at the end of the hall.
I smile, waving, trying to look dignified as I start towards him, but I can’t quite pull it off. Before I know it I’m running, tossing my bag aside, throwing my arms around him. He laughs, picking me up and spinning me around. “I love you,” he murmurs into my hair.
I can’t help but giggle. “I love you too.”
“Come on, losers,” Sophie says, smiling as she grabs my bag off the floor. “If we don’t get out of here soon the good rides’ll have lines a mile long.”
It’s the last day of school. The bus has just rung. Sophie, Ronnie and I are going to the school picnic a few miles from the school.
I haven’t cut in exactly three months. Stopping was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It wasn’t that I still felt like I had to do it. It was just…I got addicted. I couldn’t just quit. But Sophie made an enormous sacrifice to save me from myself—she threw out her razors and started driving me to my daily counseling with Braden. The fact that she cared moved me so much I knew I had to stop—a fact I’d known since that night in early December when I pledged my life to God but hadn’t accepted. But Sophie showed me that she was as devoted to helping me stop as I was.
Last week, I bought her a brand new, extra-fancy and super-expensive set of razors—and I haven’t wanted to use them to cut myself even once. Two weeks ago, I was baptized. Driving myself out of depression was like trying to climb out of an incredibly slippery hole. I had a lot of ups and downs. But every time I felt myself sinking into old ways I had to firmly remind myself a simple truth—that, if nothing else, I was loved by the God of the universe. He’ll hold me when I’m not strong. He’s with me every step on the road to recovery.
I am treasured. I am loved. I am God’s child.
“Hello? Lacey?”
“Yeah?” I look up, realizing I’d been staring at the same spot on Ronnie’s shirt for five minutes.
“All our lockers are cleaned out. Now can we please go?”
I smile. “I was born ready.” I follow her out, dragging Ronnie behind me by the hand.
Time will pass. I will get better. I will start down the path God has set up for me. And I will always, always remember that no matter what, He loves us.
AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME :D
So yes, that was the end right there. No, I am not considering a sequel and yes, I will never do anything else with Ronnie and Lacey. Yes, this is my favorite story that I've ever written and I adore Lacey and Ronnie to the ends of the earth and back. I wish I had more I could do with them, but I don't. Besides, quit while you're ahead, right?
Yes, I did get really churchy with this, and I apologize if you're not into that. If you'd like to discuss the existence (notice I said "discuss" and not "argue over") of God, feel free to message me. I like discussions. :D I've also got lots of really good apologetics (proving the existence of God without the use of the bible--in shortest terms), if you'd like to hear them.
But anyway, my Christianity is not the main reason I wrote this. I wrote this because a huge part of me is devoted to TWLOHA and their cause--and self injury/depression/suicide are a huge problem that suck more and more people down every day. I'm out to do something about it. So please, if you need anything--someone to talk to, a few reasons to keep living, someone to help you quit, please, I beg you, message me. You wouldn't be burdening me. I WANT to help you. It's why I'm here.
Oh, and in the reviews/messages/etc., please be sensitive. Hate Christians? Hate muslims? Hate jews? Hate athiests? Great, take it somewhere else. Do NOT review my story and slander anyone. And I mean anyone. And please, guys, don't argue with me or others. I want people reviewing my stories happy and loving--which all of you are, to an extreme extent. Let's keep it that way, okay? Thank you all for reading and bearing with me on all the stuff I've put you through. I adore you all. So much.
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