Hanging by a Thread

SPENCER'S POV:

"Is this what you're looking for?"

I choked as I dangled the silver key between my fingers. I felt tears welling in my eyes but I was determined not to let them fall. Not yet. I gasped as the black clad figure turned, but I already knew who I would see when the head lifted up to face me. The bright eyes I loved and treasured were cold as steel, turned against me.

He took a few cautious steps forward, and I could feel my body shaking from fear, and horror.

"Spencer…" He whispered carefully, as if any sound would break me like glass. The raging fires I had withheld for so long burst to life. Before I could register what I was doing, I felt a tingling sensation in my palm as my hand whipped across his face. I could immediately see the hurt in his eyes, and I regretted what I had done.

Before I could say anything I heard my mom calling me from upstairs. Turning towards the steps, I inwardly cursed myself; for when I turned back he was gone.

"Spencer?" My mom had come down the steps and was standing behind me. I tried to contain my emotions the best I could, but when I saw her concerned look I felt myself give up. The tears flowed from my eyes freely and I collapsed into her arms.

I tried to stop crying, to stay strong like us Hastings were supposed to do. However, it was as if someone else controlled my body, and the sobs did not cease until a while later.

"Spencer what happened? Did you and Toby get into a fight?" My mom asked after I had calmed down. Just hearing his name made me shudder, and I had to take a few deep breaths before I could answer her.

"No, I'm fine." I replied shortly.

"Oh honey, you're not fine." My mom said, her voice full of worry.

"No really, I'm okay. I just had too much stress and I guess I let it get to me. That's what I get for keeping things bottled up." I laughed dryly.I could see that she didn't quite believe me, however she accepted the answer for the time being.

"Okay. Well why don't you go lie down for a little bit?" She suggested.

I smiled weakly and nodded. "Okay."

She helped me get up off the couch we had moved to and I left for my room. Turning around, I closed the door behind me softly. I could feel my heart breaking as I glanced around my room. Memories of him were everywhere, from pictures, to gifts, to the large wooden chair over by my window.The wetness returned to my eyes and I shuddered before my knees gave way. Before I knew it I was sobbing again, barely able to control my emotions. When I caught my breath I crawled over to my nightstand, where my favorite picture of us sat, framed. I shakily pulled myself up so I was standing, and I picked up the photo.

His smile shone in the photo, and his eyes were bright and beautiful. I looked so happy, my eyes focusing on him, my safe place to land. A strangled sound, similar to that a dying animal makes, escaped my throat as I hurled the picture across the room. It hit my wall with a thud and the glass shattered into a billion tiny pieces. I cried out and picked up another photo, hurling it onto the floor. My anger had started to take control and before I knew it every one of our framed photos was in shards on my carpet. I walked over and collected the photos from the mess, ignoring the broken glass underneath my bare feet.Once I had gathered them all, I walked over to my bed and sat down. Soon every photo I had was ripped in half, and then in half again. The pieces of paper were scattered over my bed like snow.

I ended up grabbing all the pieces and walking downstairs to dispose of them. When I got downstairs I saw my dad and my mom talking in the kitchen.

I casually threw the photos in the fireplace and walked over to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

"Hey honey, feeling better?" My dad asked. Of course my mom had told him, nothing was private in this household.

"Yeah I'm fine." I grumbled as I filled the glass.

"You know you can tell us if anything is wrong." My dad started, "We're here for you."

I coughed in an attempt to cover the dry laugh that escaped my throat. "Thanks, but I'm fine. Really."

"If you want me to talk to Toby I-"

"This is not Toby's fault!" I half-yelled. I couldn't believe it, here I was standing up for the person who had betrayed my friends and I.

"Then whose fault is it?" My dad yelled back.

"No one's! No one is at fault dad! I just had a rough day!" I groaned.

"Spencer, cut the crap with me. You've had rough days before and they haven't affected you like this. If that stupid boy did anything-"

"For the last time dad, this isn't his fault!" I shrieked. "Okay?! This is my fault, I just had a bad day. I'm not made out of steel, so stop acting like I am. Just….stay out of this. I'm fine." I snapped.

"But-"

"No." I glared at him and walked back upstairs, leaving my water behind. I felt powerless, and found it hard to breathe. Suddenly a beam of light attracted my eye. The light from the moon had been reflected on the shards of glass on the floor. The temptation was immense, and I felt myself drawn to the small broken pieces of crystal. Before I could register what I was doing I had a large piece in my hand and had pressed it against my wrist.

"Oh my gosh no!" I gasped as I hurled the glass out my window. I gripped my arm against my chest and closed my eyes. I couldn't believe what I had almost done. This was not like me, I was stronger than this.Or was I?

I once again felt myself drawn to the tiny pieces of pain. Just one cut perhaps? Just to test it out?I picked up another shard and pressed it to my wrist once again. Taking a deep breath, I slid it across slowly, biting my lip as the pain surged through my body. I felt myself collapse to the ground, the pleasure seeping through my veins. I grabbed the glass greedily and dragged it across again, and again, and again. Finally, all the sadness that once swallowed me was now but a dull pounding, and I could feel my body relaxing. I looked down at the damage I had done. Bright red blood dripped down my arm and onto my glass covered carpet. I grinned evilly until I remembered my mom came in my room every once in a while. I quickly ran over to my bathroom and thrust my bleeding wrist under the sink.Once the bleeding had somewhat stopped I walked back over to my room and cleaned up the blood. I left the glass shards laying around, they were too hard to pick up by hand.

When I was finished I sat on my bed and looked over my skin. The cuts weren't very deep, but they had bled a lot. Touching them gently, I felt myself wanting more, needing more. However, I had already done enough and so instead I pulled the covers over my head and burrowed in my bed. I felt the weight of all that had happened today fall over me and I fell asleep.