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I wake up sweating and in the dark. What bothers me is that I'm alone. Completely and utterly alone in this dark enclosure of a bedroom. When I roll to my side, the familiar body that usually lies there isn't there and a wave of panic jump-shocks me and I scream. I scream like every part of me is on fire, burning away into crispy little cinders.

I'm only left to scream for a few seconds, but it's a few seconds too long in my opinion. The door to this seemingly black box swings open and a figure rushes in and over to the bed, where I am curled up and howling into my knees. A hand touches my back and I know who it is, but I keep yelling anyways. When I hear a familiar voice, my own seems to disappear into nothingness, like someone pressed the mute button on my voice.

"Zeph!", harshly until I calm down. Then, softly, the voice speaks again, "It's okay..."

"You left me," I hiss, still curled in a ball. The arm slides from my back and around my waist. The body gets onto the bed we share and hugs me protectively from behind, breathing warmth into my ear and onto my neck. I uncurl myself slowly and stretch out.

"Don't ever leave me," I whisper.

I can feel the body shaking it's head behind me.

-- --

The next time I wake up, it isn't dark anymore. The black box is no longer a black box, but a bedroom and the body from last night has turned into a heavily asleep (and slightly snoring) person lying next to me. Neon pink covers are pulled up to his nose, hiding everything from the eyes down. Very messy and impossibly straight dark brown hair sticks up and out of the covers, as well as random stripes of green hair. I smile to myself as I wrap my finger around a fragment of clean hair. My own hair hangs in my eyes like a wavy black shield to save me from the little bit of sun that cracks through heavy black curtains. It isn't clean yet because I haven't showered yet and, if I'm lucky, we'll take a shower together later.

I wiggle beneath the covers so that I'm as close to Sholi as possible. Sholi, my boyfriend. I grin to myself. He shifts a little, but doesn't wake up. He's a very heavy sleeper, which used to be very frustrating but now I know how to get him up quick.

I slide my arm around his waist and push my face into the bend of his neck, biting and kissing him softly until he grunts and I know I've disturbed his sleep process. I only know he's fully awake when his arms wrap around my own waist and pull me close. Permission given, I bite Sholi's neck once more before pulling my face away and up so that our noses are touching.

"Good morning," Sholi grumbles flatly even though I know he's happy to be up. I'm happy he's up, too, because I would be afraid to leave our room without him.

"Morning," I say, smiling and Sholi kisses me lightly, pulling his hand up to brush it through my bangs to get them out of my face. I squeeze my eyes shut until he withdrawals his fingers and then I wriggle out of his grasp and roll over to get out of bed. Behind me, he yawns loudly and the bed shakes a little as he sits up. I shuffle to the door, which is closed at the moment and wait for him there, sticking my hands in the pockets of my extra large sweater.

It takes him a minute, but when he's partially recovered from sleep, Sholi slowly makes his way towards me as he pulls on a shirt. He opens the bedroom door when he's fully clothed and walks out. I follow closely behind him with one hand clinging tightly to the back of his shirt.

"Morning," I hear someone say as I stare at my feet and count my toes to make sure they're all there. Ten, as always.

I peer over Sholi's shoulder to see him. When we make eye contact, I slink back behind Sholi, glaring through his shoulder.

"And a good morning to you too, Zephyr," I hear him say, to which I hiss quietly. Sholi goes to sit down at the kitchen table and I sit on his lap, like I always do.

He is sitting on the couch, legs crossed with a lit cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. I don't even want to look at him anymore. I stand and walk into the kitchen to get breakfast. As I pull down some Cheerios from the cabinet, I eavesdrop on the conversation going on.

"Are you guys going out today?" he asks. His name is Edward. I don't like him one bit because I know he's out to get me. I just know he is. He smiles like the Cheshire cat and laughs like an ass. He's an animal. But he's also Sholi's best friend so I have to deal with it.

But I don't want to deal with it.

"Maybe," I hear Sholi reply quietly and then I hear a lighter open and close. I look over to see Sholi with a cigarette now, too. It's a nasty habit and I really wish he wouldn't do it--especially in the house. It makes him just as bad as Edward and that's...bad. Sholi continues talking after he takes a long drag of his cigarette. He blows the smoke out of his mouth as he speaks, "It depends on how he feels today."

That he is me and I feel fine today so it would be nice to get out and mostly just to get away from Edward. I really hate him so much...

"Maybe I'll come with you," I hear Edward say and I know he's grinning. I can hear it in his icky mean voice that sounds like nails down a chalkboard to me. No, he can't come! This is my time to be with Sholi, not his. Sholi is my boyfriend, not his!

I catch Sholi's eye when he looks my way and I make sure to frown extra hard, letting him know that I don't think it's okay for Edward to come with us if we do go out today. He sighs and I bring my bowl of Cheerios to the table, sitting at a chair next to Sholi because it feels weird to eat while sitting in someone's lap. I don't look up at anyone and I pretend that Edward isn't even there.

As I eat my cereal piece by piece, Sholi and Edward talk of random things. Things I'm not listening to because I'm too busy counting every Cheerio I eat. I'm on thirty-three right now. When I finish, I set my bowl in the sink and walk up to Sholi to tug on the sleeve of his shirt. I look at him expectantly and he knows what I want. He excuses himself from his conversation with Edward and we head to the bathroom.

Feeling brave, I take the lead and am the first one to the door. I usually don't open doors but I've watched Sholi do it so much that I'm sure I could open one just as easily as he does. Stopping at the bathroom door, I grip the handle and turn it slowly. So far so good. When I push forward though, the door doesn't budge. I push again but it still doesn't move. I growl under my breath and give the door one final heave before my patience dies and I start banging on it and yelling. With a final blow to the door, I sink to my knees and start to cry.

The door is against me. Everyone is against me! Edward, my family, the world and now this goddamn door.

Sholi steps ahead of me and gives the door a heave, which I know is easy for him because he's so strong. When the door opens, he crouches down so that he's eye level with me. He's the only one who would never be against me...or at least, that's what I hope every day of my life.

"Look," he says softly, "It's open."

He helps me up and I look back to see Edward sitting smugly at the couch. Immediately, I know he jammed the door but I don't say anything because this is my favourite part of the day and no cunt-faced Edward is going to screw it up for me. I slam the door in his face, even though he's sitting quite a few feet away, and turn back to Sholi, who's already taken off his shirt and is turning on the shower.

Once we've stripped out of our clothes completely, I'm the first one in the shower with Sholi following closely behind. I'm perfectly capable of washing my own hair, so Sholi and I do that and do it quickly so as to get to the good part.

When all the conditioner is gone from our hair, Sholi kisses my forehead and grabs the soap. He smiles and I raise my arms up so he can get every inch--and I do mean every inch--of me clean. His eyes linger disapprovingly on a couple gashes across my chest before he runs the soap over them and continues. I giggle when he runs the soap across a particularly ticklish spot near where my side meets my under arm.

We take turns washing and when it's my turn I make sure to take my time because this is the best part of my day. Half way through, I pause at Sholi's chest and run my finger lightly over one of his nipples and grin when it gets hard. But I don't linger long and continue my job until I'm quite positive Sholi is squeaky clean. Then, I allow him to rinse off before I turn off the water. Sholi gets out first and hands me a towel, wrapping his own around his waist.

"Where do you want to go today?" he asks when we're back in our room and I'm waiting for him to finish getting dressed. I shrug my shoulders, picking a scab off of one of the various scars littering my arm. Sholi swats my hand.

"Don't do that," he scolds and I roll over to get further away from him before I continue to pick at the thin scab running down my forearm. Sholi sighs and sits on the bed, towel drying his hair.

"I figure we'd go shopping today since your birthday is coming up," he continues and I stop mid-pick, frowning.

"It is?" I ask, not really remembering when my birthday is or even what month it is right now.

"Yes," Sholi turns to me, "December 10th, remember?"

I shrug because I don't remember--at least not right away-- and I don't remember it being December already anyways. Although, I guess that would explain why it's snowing. I do know, however, that I'm going to be twenty-two. On my stomach, there's a spot where I've notched twenty-one lines in. On December 10th, I'll have to etch in a twenty-second line.

I make a mental note to remind myself and then look up at Sholi.

"Okay..." I reply, abandoning my scab and pull myself over to Sholi to straddle his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, "As long as Edward doesn't come," I add, making a face.

"Sure," Sholi says quietly and I smile, happy that even though Edward is Sholi's best friend and I have to deal with that, that I don't have to deal with him today. I kiss Sholi before jumping up to get a shirt from the dresser.

In the living room, Edward is stretched across the couch watching TV and eating a popsicle. I shoot him a glare, which he doesn't see because he's too busy watching the stupid television. I hope it rots out his pathetic excuse for a mind and I hope he spends the time we're gone dying a slow, rotten and painful death.

"Well, we'll be back later," Sholi says as he grabs his car keys and I pull out my MP3 player headphones. Edward glances our way and then waves, sort of, in our direction before looking back at the TV.

"Later," he says, biting off the last bit of his popsicle, which I really wish was poisoned right now.

-- --

Sholi chooses to go the mall. Normally, I would reject, but this is an outdoor mall and is said to be much quieter than a regular mall. Once we've parked and my arm is safely wrapped around Sholi's, we make our way into the closest department store, which happens to be Macy's. Inside, Sholi leads me to the men's section and within five minutes both Sholi and I have a bundle of clothes to try on. I find it strange that my pile is a bit bigger even though I don't really fancy shopping and I'd rather be at home taking a nap or…something.

In the dressing room, Sholi hurries both of us into one little stall. It's only then that I realize how incredibly small dressing rooms are--not that I mind being so close to Sholi. If it had been anyone else, I might've just had to scream.

"You first," he says, tossing some clothes at me. They're a pair of tight jeans and some wannabe Abercrombie shirt. The shirt is red, which is one of my least favourite colours, but Sholi says it looks good on me so I wear it anyways.

I elbow and knee Sholi several times before I'm finally redressed and am able to look myself in the mirror. I don't know why I wasn't paying attention before, but now I realize the shirt is short sleeved and I shake my head disapprovingly.

"I can't wear this," I say quietly, immediately going to take off my shirt. I look over at Sholi, who is staring at me contently with crossed arms. He's sitting on the little bench that's usually in dressing rooms. I toss the shirt onto his lap, mentally claiming it a reject, and turn to face the mirror.

My arms are scarred from wrist to shoulder and there are cuts along my sides and most excessively along my front. Under my belly button are one, two, three, four hearts and to the left of those are the twenty-one tally marks. They remind me why I'm here and I turn back to grab another shirt from Sholi. This one is long sleeved and black with neon pink trim and a little neon pink heart on the cuff of each sleeve. I suspect Sholi grabbed it from the girls section but I don't mind that because it follows all my requirements: It fits, I like it and it covers every scar, not including the gouges on the tops of my hands.

"Do you like it?" Sholi asks from behind me and I nod slowly.

"Yeah."

"Good," Sholi smiles and I smile and turn to kiss him.

-- --

Later, after leaving the dressing rooms with significantly less than what we entered with, Sholi leads me through and out of the Men's section and up the nearest escalator. All that's on the second floor is a bunch of house ware and children's clothes so I don't know why we're going up here. Then again, Sholi can be quite the shopper sometimes.

On the second floor, Sholi heads straight for the bedding section and I follow alongside of him. When he catches my questioning eye he says, "The sheets on our bed are really old."

"I guess," I say quietly, eyeing some old guys as they walk by. They don't notice or acknowledge me but they bother me all the same.

"Yeah," Sholi continues, "The comforter is okay, but we need warmer sheets for the winter and I should probably get some pillow cases while we're here..."

I nod, eyeing more people as they pass. Sholi is such a housewife and he doesn't even know it. Thank goodness he has a home job or we wouldn't be able to afford any of this.

I guess it's kind of my fault that Sholi can't go to work. I definitely wouldn't want to have to sit all day long in some stuffy office; it'd get so boring and I've heard that offices are really cramped places and I don't think I could be around so many people at once.

As Sholi is sifting through some bed sheets, I glare through my bangs at passers by, itching the tops of my scarred hands and unknowingly making more wounds. After a few minutes (or so it seems), the groups of people become more frequent and I get nervous. I scratch more anxiously at my hands and pull my hood up over my head. I turn to Sholi and tug at his arm and mutter, "I want to go home..."

"Just another minute? I really don't think I can go another day sleeping in those sheets," he defends, looking at me and when I don't reply he resumes his business. Somewhere in my heart I feel saddened that Sholi would want to get rid of the sheets in our bedroom, considering that they were a present from my aunt Candice before she died. She was the only person in my family who accepted me. I could talk to her about anything and she just seemed to understand everything I said.

"Sholi, I really want to go," I say a minute later, but when I turn to look at my boyfriend, he isn't there. Instead, it's an older, straighter couple quarreling over whether to get the blue sheets or the pink sheets. A wave of panic rushes over me but I don't scream right away. Maybe I can find him.

I rush over to the next aisle and peer down it, but there's no Sholi. I rush down that aisle, suddenly feeling short of breath. What if he left me? What if he's finally gotten tired of me and just left me here to die? Oh God, I don't want to die. This can't be happening!

Another aisle and another I go down and still I cannot find Sholi. I can't stand anymore. I need to sit down, so I do and when I'm on the floor I do the only thing I know has ever made Sholi come back to me: I scream.

I scream louder than the voices around me and over the catchy elevator music droning over the entire store. I am know that everyone in my vicinity must be staring and I know that there is a hand on my shoulder and a woman's voice is asking me questions, but I'm ignoring her because I can barely think and the walls are closing in on me and I can't breathe.

Hours seem to go by where my head is just spinning and I'm just screaming, until I feel a second, firmer hand on my shoulder and another hand brushing against my face. One last scream escapes my lips before, "ZEPHYR!"

I look up to see Sholi there, looking frustrated, scared and upset all at once. There are groups of people at either end of the aisle we're in, watching and whispering to their neighbors, but I'm not paying attention to them; just to Sholi. I can't think of anything to say and just sit there, only just noticing the stream of tears running down my cheeks and dripping onto my sweater. Finally, I break into a torrent of accusations.

"You left me! You were there one minute and gone the next! You said you wouldn't do that anymore! I hate it when you do that! I hate it! I hate it..." I yell and Sholi sighs quietly. He grabs my hand and heaves me up as he goes to stand. Wrapping the same arm around my shoulders, he pushes through the crowd, leading me to the escalator. Along the way, a sales lady--whose voice I recognize as the woman's voice trying to talk to me earlier--asks Sholi if I am alright.

"Yes," he mutters, but he and I both know that I am not now and never have been and never will be alright. He steps onto the escalator with me and when we're half way down, I look up at him. His face looks tired all of a sudden and he seems angry.

"I'm sorry..."I say, turning to face him and then hugging him from the side, "Please don't be angry...I'm sorry."

"I'm not angry," Sholi says with a sigh, "It's my fault anyways. I should have made sure you were right behind me when I left the aisle. I'm sorry"

-- --

When we get home, there's no sign of Edward in the living room, so I instantly decide to take a nap. Sholi sits on the couch opposite me and begins to work on his laptop. I curl myself up underneath one of our many blankets and eventually find myself asleep.

Some time later, whether it was minutes or seconds or even hours, I wake up to the sound of two people talking. I don't open my eyes because I have a feeling that if I do, the people will probably stop talking and, being the eaves dropper that I am, I really want to hear what they're saying. So, I keep my eyes closed.

"...I can't do this to him. He trusts me too much."

"So?"

I instantly recognize the voices to be Sholi's and Edward's and I grow all the more curious. They talk in hushed voices, like they don't want to wake me up even though I'm already awak, so I know they don't want me to hear. I know they're talking about me, too.

"…"So?" I just told you. He's mentally unstable. Something like this could drive him off the deep end."

"He doesn't have to know..."

Sholi snorts, "That's the problem. I can't leave him for ten seconds without him having an absolute fit."

"While he's sleeping then," Edward suggests. I can feel heat building up in my face. Was that why Sholi wasn't there when I woke up last night? Was it because he was with this filth that isn't even worthy enough to live in the same apartment as Sholi and I? Then, with a pang of sadness, I realize that I'm being cheated on by the only person that I can trust. I want to scream again.

Edward continues.

"Just think about it."

I hear some shifting and open my eyes ever so slightly.

Edward is kissing Sholi. Edward is kissing my boyfriend.

And Sholi is kissing him back.

I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend I am asleep until I hear a door close. As a precaution, I keep my eyes closed for a couple more minutes. When I do open them, I act as if I'm only just waking up. I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. Luckily I don't have to force a yawn. It happens all by its self.

Sholi is sitting on the sofa across from me again, like he never left and he was never talking to Edward and he was never kissing Edward--cheating on me, betraying me. He smiles at me and I force a smile back, trying not to cry because that's really what I feel like doing right now. Instead, I stand and casually walk into the kitchen. I can feel Sholi's eyes on my back and I sigh when I turn the corner, out of sight.

Quietly, I open the cabinet that houses our Tupperware. I shift through a few round containers, pushing them aside one by one until I come upon a little blue Tupperware that isn't made of clear plastic. I open it and pull out a bit of sharp metal I managed to salvage from one of Sholi's disposable razors. I tuck it into my sweater pocket and then walk to the fridge. I open the door and then wait a minute before closing it again to give the illusion that I was getting something to eat. Then, I head out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom. At the door, I glance back at Sholi, who is looking at me suspiciously. When I open said door, Sholi sets his laptop down.

"Zephyr," he says warningly. I know what I'm doing is wrong but I have to do it right now or it will just bottle my anger up.

I scurry into the bathroom just as Sholi is getting up and before he can catch me, I slam the door and lock it. How stupid of him to keep a lock on the door of this bathroom. How very stupid.

I pull my razor bit out of its pocket and pull off my sweater and shirt. In the mirror, I stare at myself and my scars tiredly before grabbing the razor again and sitting down so that I'm leaning against the door. I can feel the vibrations as Sholi slams his fists against it.

"Damnit, Zephyr! Open the door!" he yells. I ignore him, angry at him as I push the sharp end of the razor against my arm. I press down just lightly enough to break the first layer of skin and drag it some three inches before letting up and watching a red line appear and then thicken on my skin.

"Damnit," I hiss, cutting over some old scars, creating a sort of cross-hatching pattern which I find to my liking and decide to do to over a couple other old scars as well. Sholi has stopped banging on the door and I know where he's gone but that doesn't bother or rush me. I slide away from the door and lean against the bathtub before glancing at the twenty-one tally marks just off to the left of my belly button. Even though my birthday is still two days away, I draw the twenty-second tally mark neatly next to the healing lines.

When the door knob starts to move of it's own accord, I look up. I can hear heavy breathing behind the wall and I know it's Sholi and that he's got a fork or something to try to open the door from the outside because we don't have screwdrivers anywhere in the apartment. Shaking my head, I stand and unlock it with a simple flick of the wrist. When I step back, the door flies open and misses slamming into my shoulder by centimeters. Sholi is there looking furious and, when he sees me, on the verge of tears. I stare at him dully, tossing the razor lightly to the ground between us, not caring if it gets blood on the little blue bath mat under our feet. Sholi doesn't look at it; he continues to stare at me.

Wordlessly, he grabs a washcloth and gets it wet. I stare at him in silence and when he looks at me, he clucks his tongue impatiently.

"Well?" he snaps, "Are you happy now?"

I sit down on the toilet seat and Sholi grabs my arm hastily, wiping the blood--both dried and fresh--from my new wounds. He doesn't look up once until he is done.

When he's finished wrapping bandages tightly over my right arm, he becomes absolutely still with his eyes lowered to the ground. When he stands, he pulls me after him.

"Come on. Time for bed," he says shakily and I watch a tear drip down the side of his face. I feel sorry for him but I don't want to because he is cheating on me, after all, with that good for nothing Edward whom I wish would choke on his own tongue.

I put on a fresh shirt and get into bed without saying a word and Sholi follows closely behind me. He grunts as he lays down and I roll over so I'm facing away from him.

End Part One

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�A/N: Yay for touch-ups!