Comfortably Numb (Kellic)

Chapter Five

The red partially frozen drink slid across my tongue and down my throat. It instantly froze my airways. Very painfully, may I add.

Vic and I have become close aquantences within the last week. I haven't relapsed, which is good. But I still can't hold down a full meal. Every now and again I'll eat a banana or drink one of these wonderful things. Thankfully, Vic hasn't forced anything on me. Though I know he realizes more than he lets on.

When I eat, I feel sick. A wave of nausea will roll over me and my stomach hurts. I guess purging for so long fucks with your system.

"Come on, Kellin." He said, tugging on my wrists.

I let out a yelp and dropped the plastic cup. The red ice formed a puddle on the white mall tile. It looked like some sort of blood. Ironic, huh?

"What was that?" Vic questioned.

I could feel my face flooding with warmth. In any attempt of straying ourselves from the previous actions, I pulled a handful of napkins from the dispenser and began wiping the liquid from the floor. Vic dropped to his knees and began helping me.

Soon, the puddle was gone, replaced by a light pink stain. I tossed the cup along with the messed napkins. Vic and I grabbed our few bags and began walking once again.

At first, silence filled our conversation. But that was short lived.

"We need to talk." Vic said, pulling me off towards a lonely corner. It's quite early, so not many people are here. That's why I like it. I can shop without the unnecessary attention.

"About?" I played dumb. I know full and well what he's talking about. Though a large part of me hopes it isn't.

He frowned and pulled the bags from my grasp. They fell to the floor with a thump. The only thing I bought was a few bracelets and a couple t-shirts.

He pulled my left arm towards him and pushed the sleeve of my hoodie up. Instantly, I jerked back. What's under my shirt is none of his business. It's my mistakes and regrets. It's my scars I have to live with.

"Please," He whispered. His eyes shone with fresh tears. Is he really getting emotional?

Vic is the closest thing I've had to a friend in a long time. I'm scared he'll see how mental I really am. I don't want to be known as fragile. He'll treat me different. They all do.

His fingers traced lightly over my exposed skin. The bit that was covered by a Nirvana and a Blink 182 bracelet. I have about four band bracelets. The others were litters of leather, cloth, and plastic. Making bracelets used to be a hobby of mine. It started out as a fun little time killer. Now, it's to cover every time I've failed. Every time I've broken and given into those horrible words. There's many of them for one reason only. Because I'm weak.

I pushed my arm towards him lightly, focusing elsewhere. The last thing I need to see is his look of disgust.

Something warm wet and soft was pressed to the tattered skin of my arm. The feeling sent jolts of electricity through my veins. Glancing down, I saw Vic's lips pressed to my scars. It's so very cliché, but I found myself choking back tears.

"This is the cheesiest thing I've done in my entire life." He laughed through tears once he dropped my arm.

I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his muscular figure. His body is so different from mine. Mine is so frail and bony, while his is muscular and tan. No matter how tiny I get, I'll always worry that I'm too big. It's a problem of mine. The same thoughts enter my mind: I'm too fat. I'm too ugly. I'm too pale. I'm worthless. I'll never look like Vic. I'll never be as beautiful without him.

"Promise you'll call me if you ever feel like hurting yourself." He said, pressing his lips to my forehead.

I nodded, though I wouldn't. I need help, but I can't get it. I can't bring myself to ask. There's nothing I want more than to see fading scars. But if I ask for help, I'll feel like I'm seeking attention. But when I don't, I feel weak and worthless. As if I've failed that person. Which, essentially, I have. This is the cycle I go through when I'm struggling with self destruction.

His arm looped around my waist and pulled me towards the automatic doors. A fluttering feeling sickened me. I stopped, taking a deep breath. What on earth is that? I've purged for way longer, and this isn't hunger pains. The feeling is almost pleasurable yet disorienting at the same time.

Vic looked at me with worry filled eyes. The feeling intensified, causing a smile to tug at my lips. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

We walked in silence to Vic's bright red car. He opened the door for me, shutting it softly behind me. My face grew hot. I began tracing shapes into my jeans, trying to stray from this feeling.

He got in beside me, rocking the car ever so slightly. The car started smoothly. Blink 182 flowed through the speakers.

"I like hanging out with you." Vic said quietly.

The words shocked me. No one has ever enjoyed my presence. Every one seems to desire my whole existence to be erased. So why is Vic different?

"Likewise." I spoke.

I hate contemplating wether my walls should remain standing. Every time to do, I regret it. People get in and tear me down inside out. I'm close to broken. I'm scared as to what happens when I get there. Vic will be the last one to hurt me. There's no more hits I can take.

We pulled into my drive almost too soon. Vic looked my way, smiling brightly. A smile creeped onto my face. Again, the feeling returned. It made me want to run for the hills, yet I don't want to leave the car.

"I'll see you later?" He asked hopefully.

I nodded. "Around."

I got out and shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket. It's only mid-afternoon, but a chilly breeze flew through the trees. A strand of hair whiped around my face and tickled my nose. Vic laughed at my scrunched nose.

His laughter seemingly lifted my heart. He waved, backing out cautiously. People around here can't drive worth a hell.

I stood in the chilling wind long after his headlights disappeared behind the rows of trees. A smile tainted my features. I hadn't noticed till now. I couldn't help but wonder if it's always there when I'm around him.

A last breeze insisted I made my way inside. I turned the cool brass knob, being welcomed with warmth and- oh god that smell.

It wafted through the hall and around the corner, leaving me to stand there with a sickening feeling rising in my throat. My stomach clenched as did my throat. Come on, Kellin. You're stronger than this. But I'm not. I'm weak. That's why I can't eat. I can't deal with the fact I'll gain weight.

"Kellin, sweetie! I made dinner." My mother called from the kitchen.

It's not an unfamiliar sight- to see her in the kitchen. She tries so hard to be a good parent though she fails. Parenting has never been one of her high points.

"I'm going to change clothes." I forced out. Her face fell. "I'll be down when it's done." She nodded, ans turned back towards whatever she had boiling on the stove.

But I wouldn't. I'd fake sleep or something. Weight is the last thing I need. Vic won't like an overweight boy.