|Believe| in /Me\ {Darren}
Dec 30, 2011 1:52:58 GMT -5
Post by SNOWFLAKES [Brik] on Dec 30, 2011 1:52:58 GMT -5
"Our scars have the power to remind us that the past is real."
Jinx Nimick
"Ah, shit, I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." He put his hand out to the redhead girl, intending to help her up. Guilt, a rare thing for Jinx, went through his body. Well, fuck. I feel bad now. [/blockquote] [/size] [/justify]With careful movements, he wrapped the white absorbent cloth around his arms, making sure to cover every bit of skin on his forearm so that the bleeding in all the areas stopped. All of his burns and cuts he made at that moment were now veiled by the gauze that was a necessity in his life. It was always necessary to him to be able to hide his self-inflicted injuries on a daily basis. It was also necessary to stop the bleeding, but if it was up to him, he would leave it and just let himself bleed to death, but he wanted to go out with a boom before just dropping dead on the floor.
After both of his arms were wrapped, he stuck both of his arms out in front of the bathroom mirror to try and spot the patches of skin that could potentially stick out and reveal his secrets, but alas, his pale skin did not make an appearance from under the bandages. But Jinx noticed some of the blood seeped through one part of it, but he didn't care. I'll be wearing a jacket all day anyway. I hate cold. Going to his bedroom that was across the hall, he snatched his jacket that sat on the floor by the door and then shut the entrance to his room quickly before putting on the jacket as he walked down the hall to the front door of his house. His parents looked up questioningly, but words never left their mouths as they saw Jinx walk out the door, intentions of food on his mind.
The cold air hit him like the cigarettes and knives would hit his wrists, although according to him, the cold seemed more painful on his skin than his weapons of self-torture. He hated cold, absolutely despised it and wished that it was summer all of the time. He didn't ever have any reason to hate it except for the biting cold, and that was just the way he was, just the was he was born. His relief from his cuts and burns were the only reason why he didn't stop and cuss the world, so with slightly sulking footsteps and his fingernails digging into his palms, he pulled the jacket around himself tighter and tighter, almost like a vice, similar to a straightjacket.
~
The crunch of everybody's shoes underneath the blanket of snow was the only sound that came to Jinx's ears as he walked down the sidewalk to get to the restaurant of his liking. It was that one foreign restaurant that was popular in the District, and Jinx was no exception to the liking of the notorious shop. It was almost within his range, only a few more minutes to walk there, yet he could see the bright, shining lights that marked the shop as there in the morning dawn that was cast over District 1.
In his anticipation to get to the place and have some ramen or something along those lines, he bumped into a girl, sending her slipping on the sidewalk and crashing to the snow covered ground. Slapping his forehead, he got down on one knee next to her, cursing himself.