The Blood is on My Hands

I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point out 
I cannot cry 
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes 
I'm forced to fake, a smile a laugh 
Every day of my life

I know I should be asleep. But something has been bothering me tonight and I don't know what it is.  I know that I will be questioning whether or not I should post this because of the sentence that is coming up next, I'm embarrassed by it.  Today, I cried. tears falling from my eyes, collecting in the hollow of my cheeks and dripping down my lips . All day long I cried.

I broke down today.  And I don't have the answers as to why.  I am sure that you can all guess as to the broad reasons why. I know them.  My girlfriend is dead. My best friend is dead. My knee is still fucked up.  

I don't know if my tears were from sadness though.  Part of me thinks it was from frustration. Anger. 

God knows I was angry today. I didn't hide it.  I refused to go to school. I didn't really face much opposition though, my dad leaves for work before I get up.  But when he got home he found me, lying on my back on the formal dinning room floor.  Cradling my cut up hands.  I don't know how I got there exactly or how I started to throw the china my mom adored.  But there I was, blood covered hands and tear covered cheeks, not from the physical pain but from emotional anguish.  

He just said that I'd better clean my hand.  He swept up the broken pieces.  Whether he was mad or not, I'm not sure, but my mom did love them. I don't think I threw them all. 

I would have told him about the fresh hole in my wall but he has decided not to fix them anymore.  

I've never talked about what I saw after the crash.  I don't know how I am going to describe it, I never have but what happened in that god-damned van might not be something you can feel comfortable reading.  

I only saw two people in the van.  My best friend. And my girlfriend.  

I saw Evan first.  He was gone when I found him.  Dead. His hand was still wrapped around the steering wheel with his elbow bent the wrong way.  The back of his head crammed down at the bottom of the windshield where it met the dashboard.  Blood trickled from the ear facing down, but you could see that it had been coming out of both ears. The track went two ways, one down his face, falling down his ear, collecting along the hollow of his cheek, and dripping down his already crimson lips. And the other, the blood trail was already drying, leaving a dark path down the back of his blonde hair.

His eyes were open. I kept praying for them to blink at any second but they only grew more and more yellow.  

When I fell because of my knee, my eyes were drawn to see the pain.  I only caught a glimpse.  A deep gouge along the entirety of my knee cap.  Blood was seeping from my knee and spreading a pool over the floor of the van, waterfalling over the edge.  The bone was chipped and cracked, parts of it could be seen through the mass amounts of blood.  

The sights I had been seeing were disgusting me so I looked away from what I knew.  

And my eyes fell upon her. Hannah.  Still beautiful though severely broken.  Her back was contorted and bent, following the reconstructed shape of the side of the van.  She was forced into an unnatural arch, trapped by the seat belt that was digging into her side.  Hannah's neck was not holding up the head and her chin lolled against her chest.  The blood was beginning to appear in the corners of her mouth and bubbling out her nose with her raged breathing.  

I remember the smell of blood revolted me just before I passed out.       

Because of you
I am afraid
I watched you die
I heard you cry
Every night in my sleep