Scenes from my life

Close the door, turn the latch anti-clockwise, seven steps then walking up the stairs, right foot first, left foot, thirteen steps, ending on the right foot, three paces to the bathroom, turn right, into the bathroom, four steps to the sink. Reach out my hands, pause one, two, three, turn taps clockwise - on, the cold with my left hand, the hot with my right. One Mississippi, two, Mississippi, three Mississippi, four Mississippi, five Mississippi, twist anti-clockwise - off, turn ninety degrees to the right, then ninety degrees again, left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, turn left at the door, three steps to the top of the stairs, starting on the left foot, thirteen steps down ending on the left foot, seven steps to the door, turn the latch clockwise, open the door, close the door, turn the latch anti-clockwise, seven steps then walking up the stairs, right foot first, then left, thirteen steps...

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My throat hurts from smoking. I stare at the scars on my arm. New over old. I like the way they look. They look how I feel. Raw. A mess.

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The voices are loud, constant. “You’re shit, just fucking kill yourself, do us all a favour. You’re fucking useless.”

I chant inside my head “shutup leavemealone shutup leavemealone shutup leavemealone” but it escapes through my mouth into the real world. People look at me, concerned, amused, disgusted. The hands-free phone disguises nothing, fools no one.

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I've broken things. Ornaments in the front room. Mum’s china dogs. Mum is sad but she smiles, hugs me, says it's okay. I don’t know why I did it. Dad shakes his head and goes out. Less madness at the pub.

Mum says to cheer up, things will seem better tomorrow. I smile and nod; her brave little boy. Inside I scream. “Why aren't you listening to me? The only way things will be better tomorrow is if I'm not here tomorrow. Why can’t you see that?” Maybe she does see that though.

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Talking to Samaritans. Hannah - she's sweet, sounds northern. Calls me ‘pet’. I hold the pills and cry into the phone and she takes it all. I scream out the pain and she takes it all. “Yeah, pet,” she says, “I can hear how much it hurts.” I can’t stop crying.

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I wake up. It's another day. I wonder what it will be like.