‡† The Unseen †‡

13 † Fractures †

—even though you don't want to. God, I'm too nosy and annoying. Even I can hear it.

Devon sat up slowly, wincing. His voice was barely above a whisper. "It.. it was a fight. Nothing serious. Don't worry about it."

Raven reigned in his urge to just throw his arms up in exasperation and just yell at him. 'Nothing serious'? 'Don't worry'? Are you kidding me?

Yeah right.

Raven wasn't going to tell him he'd seen him beaten up by someone before, and that he watched as he just let him do it. Still he uttered;

"Why don't you fight back then? There's no way you'd get those kind of injuries if you just.."

Devon still didn't meet Raven's gaze. "I don't fight back because.. I..."

Raven could almost taste the doubt and uncertainty in Devon's voice. Still he wasn't letting him off the hook without so much as a tiny bit of explanation. He was so close to just—spitting it out. "'Cause what?" 

Silence filled the room even more steadily than the stale antiseptic scent. But then, Devon managed to suck in a labored breath, and spoke again.

"It.. since I was.. four.. on the streets, I've had this... darkness. Every time I think of fighting, or even just stare at something too long, I get this urge to hurt myself. It's like... it's the only way to feel something. Anything.. like.. I don't.. know how to explain it to you."

Raven's gaze softened at that explanation. No doubt this was hard for him to say, and he instantly felt bad for trying to force him. He shouldn't have. "But that's not all, is it, huh?"

Devon nodded, finally facing him but still not looking at his face, tears threatening to spill. Raven reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to say everything now. Just know.. I'm.. here. Always."

Just in case you forget I'm supposed to be your friend.

Devon stiffened at his words, and even more silence came; serious, unfiltered, thick and choking. Raven had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something as about to drop. And by the way he felt almost sick, he knew whatever was about to drop wasn't going to be good at all.

Then Devon’s voice came so suddenly, it startled the silence itself.

“I'm.. I.. have.. depression.”

Raven’s breath caught. He hadn’t expected anything more—not tonight, not now. But Devon had said it plainly. Like ripping off a bandage that had clung too long to skin. The exact opposite of what he wanted.

Good job, Raven. You ended up making HIM do what YOU didn't want to.

He shouldn't be surprised that was part of the problem. He suspected depression could be part of it. But hearing it from Devon's lips just..

Just made it all real.

And that explained most of the issues. The self-harm, the wounds, the silence.. what exactly did he pass through to have..

What happened?

Raven leaned forward slightly, genuinely worried, yet genuinely interested enough to hear his story. He should be feeling guilty that he was deriving interest like a reader intrigued in some fictional... still, he pushed the thought away as dread filled him. “What…" he gulped, "What happened? To give you depression, I mean.”

Devon looked at him then. Really looked. Like he was trying to make out what Raven was actually asking—like he couldn't understand what he was requesting. His bruises seemed darker under the fluorescent light, but it was the sharpness in his eyes that cut through Raven’s chest and caused him to wince.

Devon opened his mouth, then closed it frowning. Before he opened his mouth again and said;

“Nothing.”

A pause. Raven blinked, eyes widening, heart falling down his torso. That word was enough to shatter his trail of thoughts and make it frolic.

W-What..? Wait..

“Nothing gave me depression. I just.. had it.”

Raven’s breath quickened. “But—”

Devon cut him off with a tight, crooked twitch of his lips. Not quite a smile. Not quite bitter.

But that's not.. that's not.. FAIR.. How did someone just.. HAVE depression like it was some sort of allergy? That wasn't—

“Guess when the doctors said I had it.”

Raven blinked, already uneasy. His heart still raced, still dipped, fingers tightening around the edges of his chair.

“Since you were… uhm.. thirteen?”

Devon shook his head slowly. His voice barely rose above a whisper, his lips curled into a weak, rueful smile, but the words dropped like bricks in water.

“Since I was… six.”

——————

Raven’s throat went dry.

Six.

Six.

A six year old having depression..

Raven couldn't even begin to understand what that knowledge did to him. His mind was racing to keep up, his heart still in denial. Six.. when you're still supposed to be learning to tie your shoelaces. Still watching cartoons. Still figuring out the difference between dreams and nightmares. Still whining about not wanting to shower or head inside the house for the day or sleep or go to school. Six wasn’t supposed to know emptiness. Six wasn't the ideal age for feeling.. depressed. Six wasn't supposed to just.. have depression—

But Devon had. At six.

And he still did.

Raven didn’t know what to say at first. No perfect words. No comfort that would erase that kind of weight.

So he just.. sat closer. Out of reflex. Hand reaching across to grip Devon’s wrist—not tight, not forceful, just.. there.

Steady.

Devon didn’t pull away. Thank goodness he didn't.

“You don’t need a reason,” Raven said finally, still feeling hollow at what he'd just heard. He didn't want Devon to feel indebted to him or anything. He just... wanted to know.. “You don’t need to.. explain it to me if you don't want to. I’m not here to fix you. I just…”

He exhaled. “…I’m here. Just in case.”

Devon’s eyes glistened, but the tears didn’t fall.

Not yet.

Still his hand shifted, turning slightly so their fingers brushed.

And that was more than enough.

At least to Raven it was.

—————

Oh my poor boy, Devon.. *sniffs*

Truthfully, I don't write things like this just to entertain. I write, things like this.. to help you understand that there are people actually feeling empty like Devon, feeling pressured and confined like Raven. Feeling the need to put up an act, and feeling the need to just destroy yourself until there was nothing left. People who craved validation and approval.. and found none.

There are people like that. People out there. Alive. Breathing. Just like you. Yet suffering..

You should be grateful, no matter how meagre the good things in your life are. Appreciate what you have; there are people out there that have even less..

..or even nothing at all.

Anyways, thanks for reading. Please don't forget to vote, comment, follow and stay close by for my next update.

~Anon.