A Darker Shade of Blue (Dance Academy Fanfic)

Christian

Just a short story about Christian and his relationship with Tara. Self Harm and Suicidal thoughts occur in this story so please be careful. I hope you all enjoy! *In no way do I ever hope to glamourise these issues. I wrote this story before I was aware of how harmful it could be to romantisize things of such a serious nature as this. I hope to tackle the heavy topic with as much grace as dance academy did, and this story stems from season three episode N'FEKD. I hope you can see that the struggles Christian faces do not ultimatley define him, and that there's a person outside the suffering. If you are having trouble with anything mentioned in the story I urge you to get help. With that said, enjoy the story.*

'Arms! Christian! Focus' Zach shouted from across the classroom.

'Do you even know what you're doing?' He yelled. Christian walked across the classroom, frustrated.

'Watch the second group' Zach said, as he called the next group of boys to take to the centre. Olli was among them, making a pointed effort to look and laugh at Christian as he performed the ballet exercise flawlessly. As soon as class was over, Christian rushed back to his dorm room. They had Pas de Deux next, but he was in desperate need of release. It was a familiar habit that was hard to break. It was usually after he'd upset someone, or had a disastrous class or the voices in his head were particularly loud. They seemed loud now, deafening to him, their words of self hatred and mistakes and just how worthlessness he was as a person were always scratching away on the inside. It would never stop. Even dancing, which he never did for fun anymore, couldn't stop it which made it worse, mixing with the crescendos and falls of the music, each count and beat tagged with a word that bruised his mind. 5, 6, 7, 8. Useless, coward, ugly, hated.

He reached his dorm and went to the shoebox he kept hidden in his wardrobe, finding the blades he kept there. In a frenzy he made quick, short cuts on his hip bone and waist, the place nobody could see. He didn't know hoe long it was, but after a while, when he couldn't take anymore, he sat on his floor, defeated, still holding the blade. The pain turned into numbness, he was far too used to it now. His stared at his arm, his veins visible under the thin piece of skin. Just one cut was all it took, and he would bleed to death, watching the life drain away. They would like that, wouldn't they? They wouldn't honour him like Sammy. They would wash their hands of him, good riddance he thought. Maybe there would be an investigation. Two dead boys in less than two years. His arm itched, desperate for him to do it. Not having the guts and criticising himself for it, he put the blade away and used an old dark T-Shirt to stem the blood flow. He then grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on, for the sight of bare arms all around the academy was too much of a temptation for him. His mind numbed, he made his way out of the dorm, carrying a shameful secret and what felt like the world, but even worse, on his shoulders.

He got to class 20 minutes late, and already Abigail was fuming.

'Where have you been?' She demanded.

'I had stuff to do' Christian replied, unable to look at her directly.

'Stuff that makes my training suffer' she muttered under her breath. They got into position, and after a shaky run through, Christian began feeling light headed. As he struggled to focus, Abigail had a sudden change of gravity which caused them both to fall over, the noise and ruckus attracting attention from the others. Abigail and Christian both got up hazily, and Christian felt a sharp pain in his side.

'Ew' Abigail said, pointing to his side. 'Is that blood?'

Crap, Christian thought. The barley healed cuts must have been pulled open again in the fall. He pulled his white shirt away from him, the spots of red blood staring back at him. Abigail couldnt have possibly been any louder, and he looked at her face, seeing signs of disbelief and even disguist. Of course she was disgusted, he was disgusted himself, but how would they react if they knew that the reason they were there was because of his own bare hands?