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With Me

Burn -- 1

Other Created on 5-25-08 Views(175) Story Rating G


     My name is Rain. My seventeenth birthday was last week. There is nothing else you need to know about me. But there’s a secret I’ve kept for two years, and not a single soul knows other than me. You will, though, because I’m about to tell you. Don’t judge me by what I am; you don’t have to be reading this. I just want to say what I have to say.

                                                 • • • • •

      I’m a burner. Yes, that means I burn myself with fire, among other things. I’ve been a burner since two months after turning fifteen. I can’t say why because reliving the events that unfolded after I turned fifteen is just too painful, and burning is my escape. I can’t be a cutter like my friend Remy, who is completely fascinated with self-inflicted “skin prints”, because I can’t deal with blood. That stuff is just too messy, sticky, and too red, and the sharp, metallic smell doesn’t make it any better, either.
     Fire, on the other hand, stains cleanly. The scab that develops in the next few days after the burning protects the damaged flesh and heals quite nicely. By the time the scab falls off, fresh skin has been reconstructed. The best thing about burning is that it doesn’t leave any truly visible marks. Cutting leaves thin scars anyone could see if you wore short sleeves. Remy showed me once, and when I touched it, a dangerous feeling overcame me and I quickly put my hand away. You don’t bleed when you burn. It’s harmless to burn myself. I’m too much of a coward to risk cutting too deep and bleeding to death.
     I don’t waste those precious scabs by throwing them away. Instead, I collect them in an endless array of photo albums, carefully gluing the thin, fragile fragments of dead skin behind the slip covers and labeling where it had been and the day it fell off.
     The collections aren’t hidden, but instead are displayed behind a glass case I keep locked at all times if I can help it. No one but Remy and I know what is actually in those albums; when anyone else sees them, they think the books contain photographs I treasure. When I’m alone, I take them out sometimes, and marvel at their beauty, beauty formed by infliction. Humans, who are vulnerable to God yet seemingly invincible, can damage or be damaged. I damage. But because God gave us the mechanism of many chances to heal, I take full advantage. You can all take me as sick-minded, but this is me and this is what I do.
     Remy says I burn myself because I’m afraid that if I remember those two years again, I’m so afraid that the fragile façade I’ve been hiding in for so long will collapse, and my world will shatter. Because of this, I repress all those memories and pretend I don’t care. Remy doesn’t know what really happened, but she gets the gist of it by the way I act around my father, how I speak in monotone, or stiffen when I see him, or never smile or laugh when I talk about him.
     Remy is an experienced cutter. That’s why her theory cut too close to home. Her mother died when she was thirteen, which was when she first used an x-acto on herself. The blade, she had told me, was too thin to slice too deep. Since then, she’s been using a box cutter she bought herself to celebrate her fourteenth birthday. I sometimes get the feeling there’s more to the story, but I don’t push it because she doesn’t press me either.
     I became friends with Remy one night a year ago, when I came across her, about to commit suicide off the city’s main bridge. She had looked so relieved when I came to her, terrified for her life, a stranger I did not know then, and grabbed her arm to stop her. I led her to the closest building, a Starbucks that was fortunately still open, and bought her hot cocoa with the last of my money I had been about to spend on a lighter.
     All she had told me was her name, Torres Ramiro, but people always called her Remy. We sat, for over an hour, in a silence that wasn’t exactly like that of two strangers, but I had felt somehow connected to her despite the short time we’d known each other. After a while, I realized Remy’s cup, half-filled, had gone cold, and Remy had fallen asleep. I don’t know how long she slept there, curled up with her arms hugging her knees to her chest, but I had to get home. I took off my jacket and placed it over her freezing body. I wrote my address and phone number on a napkin and slipped it in one of the pockets and left.
     The next day, the doorbell rang at my house, and I opened the door to find the girl I had seen the night before.
     “Remy,” I had said, surprised she had come.
     “Yeah,” she replied, and her eyes had glazed over, spilling tears over her smudgy cheeks.
     She’d handed me my jacket and was turning to go when I said, “Wait.” I ushered her into my house, into my bedroom, and she had collapsed on my bed, seemingly exhausted. I had watched her placidly, feeling a sense of rightness in letting her into my life.
     Over the next months, she did the same. I didn’t have a problem with her cutting as long as she was careful and she didn’t like me playing with fire, but I assured her that fire had been my companion for a long time, and she didn’t have to worry about me putting my whole body on fire. But if I ever did, I could become a pile of ashes blown in every possible direction by the wind to places I could never get to see while alive, and be free from my subdued, hidden life. Remy, if she bled to death, told me she would drain all her bad blood and be cleansed, to be pure enough for God to accept her in heaven.
     We never believed in happy endings, though. What we wanted out of life was too much to ask from reality too cruel for dreams to grow. Both of us know that, so our pain is our escape.

Comments

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On June 16th 2008 xXPunkGirl09Xx Said :
xXPunkGirl09Xx Kmp please I love it..
On June 1st 2008 orangefizzpop Said :
orangefizzpop aimme. five words. gena showalter. playing with fire. and im totally using your account.
On May 29th 2008 amptone Said :
amptone I dig it and I will have to reread it when I'm not half asleep!
On May 27th 2008 xashleyrosex Said :
xashleyrosex kmp
On May 27th 2008 lisaljb Said :
lisaljb Makes my body cringe! Yikes! I know of a someone special to me, whom I've made that someone promise me that they will never burn theirself again. That someone hasn't burned since July 2007.
On May 27th 2008 13sweetcheeks Said :
13sweetcheeks wow this sound very interesting kmp
On May 26th 2008 Laralei Said :
Laralei Wow. I have to admit this is really well written, and though Rain comes across as a creepy little girl... you get attached to her narration. You view her as a good friend, a good human being - just damaged. Please keep me informed!
On May 26th 2008 Smarties4 Said :
Smarties4 Wow! A great start to the story, awesome idea and amazing writing style. Definitely keep me posted
On May 26th 2008 kissofasia Said :
kissofasia I read stories sometimes.I read this one also,I don't know why you would hurt and burn yourself.You must have a painful experience from the past to be able to do that,like HATRED.My skin is supre sensitive,i could have a scar from a mosquito bite,i am not lying.I even developed keloids.Sometimes,someone really makes us feel bad but i really believe that life is a choice to be live happily or live a miserible life.I'm kinda sad to read this but i really hope you will stop hurting yourself.
On May 26th 2008 deadpoet Said :
deadpoet i agree with what Thug said, I never read stories on here because...well, what he said haha...but this was good! (...how did you change the font text??? I've been trying to figure out for the longest)
On May 26th 2008 Thugnastay227 Said :
Thugnastay227 i generally dont read stoires since my attention easily diverts and wanders..this held my attention...i truly hope this is ficticious..either way i am enthralled.
On May 26th 2008 xHickChick789x Said :
xHickChick789x sounds pretty interesting. kmpp
On May 25th 2008 flutytute Said :
flutytute Wow, I think it's really good! kmp please!