Hide, Don't Seek

Chapter 23~

Last night, I agreed to this stupid idea—but only after spending an hour researching the place he wanted to meet. Somehow, E knew there was no way I’d meet at their place, which he shares with these three other men. But he also didn’t bother asking if they could come here. Instead, he invited me to be his guest at The Raven Room.

After one phone call, four emails with the manager reading policies and contracts, and sending the updated medical information I got from my appointment last week, I finally gave in. I sent a list of requirements for him and his friends to agree to, then, we set a date.

Now, in approximately three hours, I’ll be walking into The Raven Room. Tonight is their annual Halloween party, which is perfect for me. The guys and I will blend in with everyone else dressing up, and we’ll all be in masks. I let E know what my mask would look like, and he gave me strict orders not to wear panties.

I took care of everything I needed to do today. All trash has been emptied, food has been donated, and my work computer and Stu’s letter have been sent.

Now, I’m spending some time soaking in the bath. Blue October”s agonizingly pain-filled lyrics in Hate Me fester deep in my soul, and I find myself breaking down with each new bar.

A sob breaks from my chest, and every emotion in the universe spills down my cheeks, swirling with the water below.

I cry for the family I lost, for the family I never had.

I cry, knowing that the little girl I once was should have been better, should have had better.

I cry for the people I thought I could count on, the people who let me down.

I cry for the ones who dared take what wasn”t theirs.

I cry, and I cry, and I cry.

The well inside of me fissures, and pain courses through my body as my emotions boil over.

They’re too big, too painful.

I swipe my razor off the side of the tub and repeatedly slice it across my right hip. The sting forces my body to jump, but I ignore it and continue slashing the razor over the area of tender flesh. I feel myself begin to shake as little ribbons of crimson dance through the bath in a tantalizing motion.

A few beats pass until my body trembles with adrenaline, and my tears finally subside. Thankfully, the pain has now moved from my heart to my hip; effectively transferring into a more manageable area.

Feeling like a weight has lifted off my chest, I suck in a deep breath before slowly standing from the bath. Blood trails down my leg. Not heavy and thick, but thin and light; like a steady stream meandering through the woods.

Stepping out of the bath, I immediately move into the shower to actually clean my body and hair. As a shaky breath squeaks past my lips, a small grin tugs at my face. The lingering sting of the shallow cuts on my hip continues to ground me and keep me moving forward.

The song changes, pairing perfectly with my relieved mood as You Don’t Own Me by Saygrace plays through the speaker.

I don’t give a flying squirrel sack what anyone says about cutting. I prefer tattoos, yes, but sometimes you need to be grounded quickly, and thin, quick, shallow slits across fleshy spots do that trick every time. I’m not trying to kill myself- well, not tonight anyway- but it definitely helps when emotions become too much. A little trick I learned long ago after Matt’s betrayal hurt as much as actually losing my virginity.

Once I”m finished and dried off, I get to work massaging my legs and arms. Johnson’s Baby Oil with Shea and Cocoa Butter is one of the few moisturizers that doesn”t break me out and leaves my skin impossibly smooth.

Excited energy buzzes under my skin as I finish preparing for my last night on Earth. Although I”m horrifically nervous the other three men won’t find me good enough to play with, I’m choosing to trust E; as he assured me they will. Besides, worst comes to worst, E and I have already played, so I’ll still have one man to spend the evening with.

It will take me an hour to get there, so I quickly rummage through my closet and pull things off the hangers. I throw on the black, ripped skinny jeans that accentuate the curves of my legs and rear, which E claims to like so much. The scratching pressure against the cuts on my hips helps to keep me in the moment and I quickly find a top to throw on. I’m not cute, I’m not sexy, so I’m not bothering to be anything other than me. If they don’t like it, I’ll just get drunk and maybe speed up my little plan.

My lace blue bra from ThirdLove matches the delicately laced blue mask I’m wearing tonight. Wanting to show it off a little, along with my three black bird tattoos that sits on my collarbone, I opt for a black off-shoulder top that bunches just enough around my waist that it hides my hideous belly.

Now, the shoes. I tossed my dang Chucks, unable to look at them again after my last failed tryst, so now I’m stuck between peep-toe, black lace-up sandals, simple black flats, or knee-length black boots with black glittery laces that criss-cross in the back. They do zip, of course, so I won’t have to worry about fumbling around when taking my shoes off. But that still doesn’t really feel like me, so I opt for the simple, black flats.

I straighten my hair and give my side-swept bangs a little lift before putting on my makeup. I’m a simple girl, so nothing major. No contouring or shading. Just foundation, eyeliner, mascara, a dabble of light gray-to-white eyeshadow, and some blush. Of course, I add a little Dreamer Matte Ink and call it a day—or night, I suppose.

Grabbing my mask, I head out to the garage and pause for a moment. Yes, I did my hair but… if this is my last night, shouldn’t I do it my way?

With a confident smirk, I grab my small, black backpack, slide off my flats and stuff them inside along with my mask, change my shoes, and head back out. Regardless of the men I’m meeting, I’m definitely going to make sure tonight’s good.