|We| ~All Fall~ |Down| {Clover}
Dec 30, 2011 7:00:32 GMT -5
Post by SNOWFLAKES [Brik] on Dec 30, 2011 7:00:32 GMT -5
"Our scars have the power to remind us that the past is real."
Jinx Nimick
"What the fuck are you doing with that?" [/justify] [/blockquote]He winced slightly as he set his arms on the armrests of the chair. Jinx remembered that earlier that day he had burned himself again with the cigarettes he used for his wrists only. At least he had taken the time to bandage them and wrap them up with gauze, or else they would have hurt a heck of a lot worse, or so he knew from trial and error, and lots of experience. His arms slightly throbbed as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of his love seat, his three boy cousins sitting on the couch closer to the TV and the girl somewhere else around the house. His parents were on business across the District, so he had to leave his house and stay at his uncle's house for a week, and he knew he couldn't live that long without having to use a kitchen knife, so like the fool he was, he brought his stuff with him.
Flipping through the channels and finding some reruns of the Hunger Games, he pressed the button just in time to see Mace Emberstatt board the hovercraft to come home. According to the TV guide, the next Games they were showing were the 58th, and Jinx wasn't too big of a fan of those. Aw shit, now there's nothing good on T.V anymore. I need to find something to do. Rolling his eyes, he threw the remote at his cousins so they could find something to do. They hastily took the remote, each of them fighting over who had the right to flip through the channels first. Jinx snorted as he hastily left the room, going to his bedroom tolight up another cigaretteread or do anything that would entertain Jinx for awhile.
As his bare feet pattered down the hall, he heard the clinking and crashing of items. His eyebrows knit together as he looked in all of the rooms that were leading up to his, but alas, nobody or nothing were in any of the empty rooms. Every room he came across was empty and unoccupied, except for another room with his parents and his uncle, but he left them alone instead of demanding what the noise was - he would just have to find out for himself. Jinx was certain that something was happening in his room, but what - he had no idea and almost didn't want to know.
Storming into the room, he found his cousin Clover with his box that he kept his knife and cigarettes. The little black box that he had kept so well hidden in a place where he thought nobody could ever discover was now in her possession, in her hands. The things that scarred up his arms, yet helped him through rough were now in Clover's possession. He didn't want anybody to know; if anybody knew they would make him stop, and that was the only thing that helped him get through daily life. Hurting himself, in its own little way, was the way he kept himself alive. And he didn't want some twelve year old brat letting her mouth run about it, taking away the only thing he looked forward to anymore.