Tragedy ✔️

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Needing To Apologize.
Sophia Crawford

“There you go again…” He stops laughing and throws his hands up into the air frustratingly, “…making assumptions about me.” He shakes his head at me. “I’m being serious, Sophia. Stop trying to figure me out. I won’t say it again.”

I scoff even though we had the conversation days ago.

I wasn’t even trying to figure River out, and what I said about him was true, I saw it myself in the bathroom: he is troubled, but he’s just denying it because he doesn’t want the world to know that he has feelings, emotions.

The kind of emotions people would laugh at him for because he’s a guy, so he doesn’t want to show weakness in front of people because they would think he’s weak, and therefore he doesn’t want to cry for help and thinks that whatever he’s battling at the moment, that he can battle it himself.

But look where that brought him.

He punched a mirror multiple times just weeks ago, not even caring that the sink was full of thick red blood running from the deep cuts on his knuckles. There were tears streaming down his cheeks, and his hands were shaking, and they weren’t even shaking from the cuts on his knuckles, his hands were shaking because he had a panic attack.

What would have happened if I didn’t show up in the bathroom?

He would have kept punching the mirror until all the skin on his knuckles came off, and that would have caused his hands to bleed out. If I didn’t show up, there would have been no one to save him from himself; there would have been no one to pull him out of the darkness that he was in.

Those weren’t just ‘assumptions’ I made, like he said.

It was the truth.

Yes, I might not know him well, but I know the signs when someone’s struggling, and River was really struggling in that bathroom weeks ago.

I shake my head.

This shouldn’t bother me this much. Hell, I shouldn’t care this much about the guy who has shown nothing but resentment toward me, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to help him, even though he’s the rudest, most calloused and cold boy I have ever met in my life.

I also know that it’s not my place to interfere in his life, but if I don’t help him, then who will?

No. I shouldn’t care anymore.