8 Chapter 8 'The morning after'
Surprisingly, I managed to manoeuvre in such a way that none of the 3 police officers or neighbours spotted me walking right up to my front door. I often stay with friends until ungodly hours; Why was my mom so worried this time?
The moment I stepped inside my gaze moved towards Marcae was rushing down the stairs muttering to himself, hair still wet from a recent shower, typical grey sweatpants on, and for some reason a bowl of cereal in his hands. Needless to say, Marc stopped instantly when he noticed my presence in the doorway. "S...sa" his questioning was cut short by Cas' loud screeching echoing against the walls. I had been spotted...now I had to face the beast.
Most teenagers prioritize reactions they get from their parents when they do something unbecoming, this was not the case for me and Cas. My best friend of nearly my entire existence is the one to watch out for...
"SaRI WHERE THE FuCK diD you gO?!?!?! I will tear whoever hurt you limb from limb!"
"CASEY! Language! Please be aware of Officer Don and Officer Kennedy's Presences." Mum reminded
"I was actually just on my way to fetch Stan and see if we could find you." Marc piped in, desperately trying to clear the tension in the room.
A thunderous scoff could be heard from the opposing end of the room, no doubt belonging to Casey. "You two are just best buds now, aren't you?"
"Maybe coming back was a bad idea..." I let out with a sigh, starting to worry about how Marc must be feeling.
"Hun, don't say that! We were so worried! After Marc and Stan told us what had happened I planned to host a family meeting..." she said in a serious tone of voice.
I was shocked! Marc and Stan? Did she know? I didn't even know! I had yet to process what I saw just hours before. At the moment, I was only certain of the fact that Cas and I had very different ways of coping...
"I don't think that I am in a place where I can talk with you all at the moment." I tried to hand then this information gently as possible, as not to hurt anyone's feelings or cause more unrequited confusion.
"Sari can run off and avoid talking with you, but I cant? You're all thinking the same as I am! Stan and Marc are NOT okay together, they have been utter jerks to one another for years! Not to mention the fact that they are both MEN!" Casey snapped, harshly confronting the room yet again.
"I am going to my room. Don't bug me." I gave Cas a look as if to say "Especially not you", I continued to grasp for temporary freedom from this mess.
"Sarima...please. Let us talk for a bit. A lot has happened in the last few hours, and we should address feelings and concerns!" Mum prodded; I continued up the stairs entering my cavern of emo propaganda and boy bands, my habitat...
The second I stepped foot in my room, I knew something was out of place. Head still pounding and heart still thumping I hesitantly peered under my bed. The keepsake box holding evidence of the largest secret I have ever had to keep was gone. This was the LAST thing I needed to happen.
I panicked, remembering what I kept in the box...
I am not ready to come out, I am not ready to be judged without people even taking into consideration who I am as a human being...
In the past, I considered telling Casey that I identify as genderqueer, fortunately, my anxiety got the better of me. After hearing what Casey had to say about our brothers, I could only imagine what he would have to say about me.
Doing research and reading about people with similar feelings always made me feel better, but there were still a lot of people (even in the LGBTQ community) who did not think being genderqueer was valid or a real identification.
I decided to put on the only thing I could think of to calm myself down, some of my favourite records. Unbeknownst to most close to me, my collection included songs by "They might be giants", "Cage the elephant", "Red hot chilli peppers", and my all-time favourite band "Green-day".
I sat in my room for most of the day; That is until I received a text notification from an unknown number.
Wearily, I opened the message to find a picture of...my keepsake box?!? What did this person want? HOW did they get it?
The anonymous sender in the photo was wearing gloves, and their face was out of frame. I look over the picture at least a hundred times before concluding that there was no hint as to who it could be. Did this person seriously have to be so ominous?? They didn't even send instructions or threats with the photo! I knew they likely kept those details to themselves to scare me, and I must admit it was working.
Fear began to overwhelm me, I needed to think of a way to relieve the pressure of emotions clouding my mind, and fast.
There was only one thing I could think of stronger than my comfort music, but it had been years and I had been clean for too long. After pondering for a little while longer I decided not to go ahead with the silly idea, that is at least what I told myself...my muscle memory had different plans.
As if no time at all had passed since the last time I'd done this, I was subconsciously walking to the shelving unit in my closet. I dug under multiple articles of clothing and plushies to find my 'special' pencil box. One thing for sure, I did not keep pencils in here.
So many feelings were rushing through my head, I could no longer think clearly. I peeked over at the door to double-check it was locked, sure enough, it was. I opened the familiar yet unsettling box revealing packages of gauze and bandages along with a collection of blades I called my closest friends not long ago.
