It Hurt Itself In Confusion Novels & Stories

It pulled me back from my thoughts, but the wound would heal I will be back in a battle against myself. I didn’t pull the glass out. I just watched the blood run, the twisted voice in my head momentarily silenced by the shock of the injury. Preventing it from healing for a while, it marinate in the pain. But the silence didn’t last. As my body immediately began its unnatural work, the skin already starting to push the foreign objects out, to knit itself back together, the final, damning thought rose. I couldn’t even hurt myself right. I couldn’t even bleed like a normal man.

she finally says, hissing, before turning her attention back to the open textbook on her table, and I’m still frozen. The rest of the class backs her up, chiming insults in here and there, along with more accusations. My legs feel like lead, my head, light, and in all my years on earth, I’ve never been this confused. I try to defend myself as I force my legs to start moving. “I didn’t hurt any of them,” I say, but the words come out as a string of scrambled garbage. It’s like I’m no longer there because everyone looks past me as they continue to speak louder and louder till the ringing in my ears won’t stop.

Me, I was referred to as the bitter one. I wanted it to hurt me. I wanted the rumors to pierce my soul and the insult to my dead parents to affect me. But it didn't. Because deep down, from the beginning, I knew that it was bound to happen. I prepared myself for change. Good or bad, I was ready for change. That's how my life changed. Now I was confused because I thought I was over it.

GUNNAR POV Vanessa keeps going in and out. She wakes up and screams or groans before fainting again. The runt is in worse shape. She is sweating, screaming, and her body is actually convulsing. Hilda is sitting on my bed like this is her favorite damn TV show, and I want to rip her head off. I am a mess, with a capital M. In the past, I have rarely shown compassion to people in physical or emotional pain. I haven't felt a connection to their experiences. But seeing my mate........a mate I had convinced myself was a curse, hurting.......My insides are tearing with need.

I stared out of the window, somewhat grateful for my mother's presence, but at the same time, wanting to be left alone. That was the thing about being confused. You wanted to talk, and at the same time, you didn't want to. You hated everyone around you, and at the same time, you would never do anything to hurt them. It was insane logic. One that I hated desperately. But that was the shoe I was in. And it was going to be on my leg for quite some time. “You alright, Clara? I have to go back to my room, check on some files. If you need anything, just call me, okay?”

she whispered, the words a broken confession. “I hurt you,” she repeated, louder this time. Her body began to shake, overcome by the weight of her memories. “I hurt you!” The scream tore from her throat, a primal sound of anguish and self-hatred. She started to scratch at her arms, her nails leaving angry red trails—punishment for herself, a desperate attempt to feel something, to match the internal pain with external marks. I moved forward. “Stop,” I tried to prevent her from hurting herself further. “I forgive you.”

How could someone be so cruel and yet so convincingly sincere? "I will never fucking forgive you, you bastard," I muttered, the words bitter on my tongue as tears traced a path down my cheeks. Alone in that suffocating space, it felt absurd to engage in a conversation with myself, yet I couldn't help but vocalize the turmoil within. How foolish I must have seemed, reminiscing about the moments shared with him, replaying them like a broken record. Damn it! I had convinced myself that I could finally break free from his grip, but here I was, tangled in the same fucked-up, screwed-up, absolutely frustrating emotional web once again.

I knew that I have done more harm than good to her. I couldn't help but wonder why I was feeling pain erupting from my body. The more I tried to think of it the more confused I got, and the more confused I got the more the pain I was feeling increased. I bit my lips not wanting to wake her up and I felt blood seeping into my mouth. I finally let out the growl of pain that I have been holding in all this while. I couldn't bring myself to stare at the awakened Cynthia because I felt her pain. Cynthia stirred up from her sleep with a concerned look on her face.

I turned around, my expression was a mixture of confusion and pain. Why did it hurt? I told my brother that I would never get hurt even if I found out that I was not that childhood friend that Jamie was talking about but it hurt and the pain was unbearable. I felt a lump form in my throat as I struggled to find the right words, to reassure him that I was fine and that I was not affected by his finding but I couldn’t and to think, that I had rehearsed this moment in my mind a thousand times, even those times that gamma Caldwell kept saying that I might be the girl but now that it turned out the opposite, everything felt wrong. I became desperate and greedy to be that girl.

I stepped forward into the storm of consciousness. “You don’t understand humanity,” I said louder. The rage hit instantly in response. A tidal wave of grief and fury crashing through the nodes. Humanity abandoned us. Humanity created suffering. Humanity made us afraid. Tears burned down my face. “Yes,” I cried out. “Yes, humanity hurts people!” The network faltered slightly. Not because it agreed. Because I did. Nathan looked at me sharply. But I kept going. “We hurt each other all the time,” I whispered shakily.