Memories Past_ Part One

My pointer finger twitches, startling and awakening me. Eyes--blood shot and sore--attempt to scan the room. This makes me nauseous. I’m covered in stench—a mixture of thick blood and puke. I’m shirtless, my ratty jeans are half way on, and feelings of numbness are present. After 5 minutes of lying on the old, wooden planks, I manage to sit up. Brushing my choppy bangs from my crimson eyes is a hard task. Looking ahead, my surroundings are clear that I am in a bedroom. A double bed sits to the left; sheets that have been through a tornado lie over the mattress--substances of dried blood and dirt had seeped into the polyester.    

            A month has passed since the cruel state of hostility. Tragedy struck. Losing not only a brother, but also a best friend, started me on cutting. The cold steel, slowly sliding across my flesh creates a burning sensation. The disintegrating memories last short periods. It’s worth every minute; remembering the incident hurts. Being strong is a weakness; that is tough to admit. How does one begin to find strength when nothing is right and all is wrong? This eternal battle will never bring answers.

~comments/critique/questions are welcome. tell me if you would like me to post the second part~

~this was a creative writing assignment i had to do~