Help Me Feel

Help Me Feel - Being Dragged Places I Didn't Want To Go

A/N: This is dedicated to March 1st, which is also Self-Harm Awareness Day. It's a serious matter that can, and often does, lead to death. Just be careful with your choices, and never be afraid to talk to someone, especially if they're not the type to judge. Also, I changed my mind, this will honestly be ten chapters, and that includes an epilogue.

Chapter 2 – Being Dragged Places I Didn't Want To Go.

I hadn't cut the night before. The leg incident had worked perfectly, keeping me at bay from anything serious. I knew it wouldn't last, but for now it would do. I'd probably end up back in a stall again today, but right now I was fine. I could last up to seven days before the need became too much. I'd started pacing myself to an actual cut once every three-four days, knowing how long it took each cut to scab over completely and ruin the calmness inside me. I couldn't help the “accidental” paper cuts that occurred every day.

I was sitting in English, a bottle of water in my bag in case Brandon hadn't taken the hint yesterday. I wasn't, however, surprised when I saw he was talking with Anna and her group. He walked in with them just a few seconds before class started, smiling and nodding at whatever she was saying.

I let my head rest on the desk, my thoughts drifting to what I'd eat for dinner tonight. My dad would be sending the usual items soon, but I generally didn't eat much. There was a lot of food from the last couple of weeks that had been left untouched. It wasn't that I was anorexic or anything, I just ate a meal and was done for a few hours. My dad bought snacks that got left in the back of a pantry because I just didn't eat them.

I let my eyes close slowly. I was tired, having been up a lot of the night to keep applying the antiseptic cream. I didn't want it to get infected, that would be a huge problem. Infection meant doctors, which meant questions, which meant my biggest fear.

I was at that point of almost-sleep, where I could still hear my surroundings, but I couldn't move or find the will to care.

Not that I ever did, but this was calmer. Almost matching the feeling of a cut. Almost.

“Hey, Andrea!” A voice greeted, cheerfully.

I clenched my teeth together and took a deep breath. In, and out. In, and out.

Finally, I opened my eyes again. Brandon was sitting beside me, smiling as though the world was rainbows and butterflies.

“What?” I asked, annoyed.

“Well, you ditched me yesterday. Is everything okay?” He asked me, and I was slightly shocked to see he actually looked concerned. For me.

I didn't need that. I didn't want any kind of pity.

“I'm fine,” I said, closing my eyes to try and block him out.

“Well, since you're fine, come over to mine after school. You can't tell me your parents are strict about this stuff, because you would have mentioned it yesterday. So, come on, please?” I looked up to see Brandon attempting (and failing) to use what I guessed were sad eyes. He was actually begging right now.

“Look, Brandon,” I began, but he cut me off with a grin.

“You remember my name, that's a start.”

I ignored that, continuing with what I was going to say. “You don't know me, you don't want to. So stop now.”

He just shook his head, a smaller smile on his face. “No, never. Just refusing makes me more sure that you need a friend. Me or someone else, but from what everyone says about you, I'm the only one here.”