Soulmates

Chapter 70

TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM, THOUGH IT IS UNINTENTIONAL I AM AWARE THAT SOME PEOPLE MAY FIND IT TRIGGERING

SO TAKE CARE IF YOURSELF, I PROMISE NOTHING TOO IMPORTANT HAPPENS IN THUS CHAPTER

I WILL HAVE A LONG DASHLINE FEATURING ANNOYING FANGIRL TALK WHEN IT IS OVER

When Jaz lost her five-dollar water bottle, she expected her life to be like this:

Jaz: looked around and then she found it and life was fine.

Instead, because fuck Jaz, she guessed, she got this:

Brain: And the Oscar for the most random trigger of a mental breakdown goes to... This dumb bitch!

Jaz: Wow! Thank you so much. I am truly honored to be here today. I would like to take a moment to thank all the shitty people in my life because I certainly wouldn't have gotten here without them! I'd like to thank God--that's right, sky daddy himself. He decided to make me live with a sexy, chemically imbalanced brain. He also made me a homosexual with homophobic parents. I also want to acknowledge those homophobic parents for making my childhood a hellscape. But I really want to hone in on my mother, who once berated me for losing a ten-dollar sweater at a Target. Apparently, she beat the shit out of me--she said it, like three years later, like, oh yeah, remember this silly thing?--and it must have been a good one because--you can insert the game show laugh here--I don't remember shit! I think that's where I got scared every time I lost something. I also want to thank the school system for making me physically unable to get anything below a B, and even that's toeing the line to insanity. I am grateful to be the dumb bitch who got triggered by dumb shit, and I hope to be here again. Because this sure as hell won't be the last time!

    And that was how she ended up in the bathroom with sticky floors for reasons Jaz did not want to know and clogged toilets due to food being dumped in them. She stood in front of the mirror for the entirety of lunch, bawling, digging her nails into her skin, then crying more as her nails drew blood, desperately trying to wipe it away. Her head raced with a single thought: Did you just do that?

    She ran into the largest stall and clamped her hand over her mouth, pinching her nose shut to stop any sounds from coming out of her throat. She couldn't breathe. She didn't care.

    Someone banged on the door. "Hurry up," said a deep voice. The cons of a unisex bathroom.

    How long had she been there? "Give me a second," Jaz said, feigning annoyance. She checked the time--lunch was almost over. Fuck.

    She used her foot to flush the toilet--a loud sound that could be heard outside--and turned on the water at the sink, letting it run while she scrambled to fix her smeared mascara. She looked down at her arm; it was still bleeding. She grabbed a paper towel, wiped away the blood, and crossed her arms. If more came gushing out, no one would see. All she had to do was make it to her bag. Jaz brought a cardigan.

    It was a shame. Jaz thought she looked pretty today. She was always insecure about her hair--the dirty blonde was light enough to be blonde and catch your attention but dark enough to look like a shitty wig next to her dark olive complexion. But she wore it down today, and her hair was long. She'd taken advantage of the cold weather and worn a white sweater with a square neckline and light-washed jeans. She really only brought the cardigan just in case it got too cold, and it didn't. It just got hotter, and putting on the cloud cardigan would make the heat unbearable. And her makeup. All of it was gone. Granted, she didn't put on much- concealer, blush, bronzer, and mascara. But she looked pretty.

    Jaz didn't think God--if there even is one--liked it when Jaz felt pretty.

    Jaz took a deep breath before opening the door.