Scarleton Series I : Before the Cult Read Online Free Page A

Scarleton Series I : Before the Cult
Book: Scarleton Series I : Before the Cult Read Online Free
Author: Sandy Masia
Tags: therapy, Rejection, delusions, lonliness, selfharm, mental ilness, hoopelessness, loss of belonging, loss of trust, selfharming student
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a pulsing
headache. Another wave of tears began as the self-loathing gnawed
at my state with its range of insults and commentary that
perpetuated the feeling of being alone in this world and how it
would be best for everyone if I slipped a noose around my neck.
Mostly reminding me of how I can barely stand living underneath
this scarred skin and how I would appreciate total annihilation of
my soul. Too much hate and emotional hurt for one soul to carry
without exploding. That is when the craving for a blade on my skin
reached its peak and the ground beneath my feet seized to hold.
There was one way I only knew how to help myself from being buried
by the darkness that was eager to consume me. Pain, self-inflicted
pain. I fiercely butt the tree’s trunk with my forehead three times
or so.
    It must have
been a few minutes or so when something warm and moist fell on my
forehead. I opened my eyes and above me the sun shone clearly
through the bristling branches. Distant voices, the rambling of
vehicles on the road across the garden and the coming and goings of
students by the stone cobbled walkways from the dining hall leading
to an array of places eased me into consciousness. My shirt felt
soggy on my back and mosquitos and flies where buzzing over my
body. I wiped my forehead with my fingers. Inspected them to find
bird faeces mixed with my own blood. I felt my forehead and
discovered I had a gash right in the middle of my forehead. I
figured I must have knocked myself out from banging my head on the
trunk like that. Then I stumbled to my feet, looked around and it
seemed no one had noticed. I brushed the leaves and grass off my
trousers and started walking to residence.
    “How did it
go?” was Macxermillio’s greeting when I walked into my room.
Macfearson was on the computer surfing the internet. Eyes on the
screen, all he could do was to echo Macxermillio absently.
    “Um…” I tried
to speak then Macxermillio interrupted, “What the fuck happened to
your face?”
    Macfearson
looked up from the laptop. “Did Jay hit you?” Darkly, he
smiled.
    Macxermillio
tittered. “What happened?”
    “New form of
SP.” I walked to the mirror by the basin to inspect the wound, it
was swelling and seeping. “I banged my head against a tree. Too
upset.”
    “Did not go
well then?” Macxermillio asked.
    “I don’t
know.”
    “What did they
do?”
    “They got to
me. Showed them my scars.”
    “Why?”
    “Needed to shut
them off.”
    “It
worked?”
    I grabbed my
towel on the rack beside me and started wiping the blood. “No. It
only got worse so I went outside and did this.”
    “So nothing got
done?”
    “Yet.”
    “So when?”
    “Supper.
Perhaps.”
    “Okay.”
Macxermillio exchanged a glance with Macfearson. He cleared his
throat. “Do you wanna be left alone?”
    “I don’t know.
Doesn’t matter if you are here anyway. Nothing I can’t do with you
guys around except masturbating I guess.”
    Macfearson
stood up from the chair and walked over to view the wound in the
reflection. “Man, you are hyperventilating. Never seen you this
upset in my life.” He peered deeper into the wound, narrowing his
eyes. “I think you should cover it up.”
    “No. There is
something about it.” I paused to think. “It’s a conversation
starter.”
    Macfearson
chuckled. “I guess so.” He turned Macxermillio. “ Macx, what do you
think?”
    Macxermillio
only laughed. A smile flickered on my face. “I’m gonna go for a
walk to the shops now. I’ll see you guys later,” said Macxermillio,
picking up his backpack from the floor.
    “Cool. See you
later.”
    “You guys want
anything?”
    Macfearson
replied, “Can you get me a new lighter and pack of ciggies?”
    He nodded. “And
you, Sandz?”
    “It’s
Wednesday. Get me three beers.”
    “750s?”
    “Yes,
please.”
    He left the
room.
    Macfearson
stared for a long time at the wound, clearly contemplating
something.
    “What is it?” I
asked.
    “Don’t
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