Healing Scars

8. Locked Bathroom Door

I heard someone laughing so I opened my eyes. I saw Brandon standing infront of me.

"Wh- what do you want?" I stuttered. Chris was still asleep and I couldn't deal with Brandon on my own. He was going to kill me if he gave me one of his brutal beatings. "I don't know why my brother flipped out about me calling you a queer. After all that's what you are." He whispered, still laughing. I felt tears sting in my eyes. I got up and ran away, trying to find the bathroom. After opening at least five doors I found the bathroom and locked myself inside. Tears starting streaming down my face.

You're so stupid.

You're a fag.

No one likes you.

Chris likes me.

No he doesn't. He's a liar.

You're fat.

I started sobbing quietly. Why did I have to be so messed up? Why couldn't I like girls? Why couldn't I be a girl? I searched in my pockets for my razor, I always carried one with me in case things got too fucked up. I rolled up my sleeve and made almost ten new cuts. I watched the blood pour from the cuts as I washed the razor and put it back inside my pocket. I was about to clean my arm when there was a loud knock on the door.

"Kyler! Are you in there?" Chris' voice was full of worry and I felt so bad. He didn't have to be stuck with such a freak as myself.

"Yeah." I faintly yelled back. I finished cleaning my arm, rolled my sleeve down and opened the door.

 "Why did you leave?" Ugh, I hated making him sad.

"I had to... Um, wash my hands because I um..."

You suck at lying. You're an idiot.

I saw his eyes fill with worry again. "Tell me you didn't." I hurried to say I hadn't. "Then show me your arms."

Fuck.

If you weren't so stupid this wouldn't have happened. You're hurting him. You're disgusting.

I flinched when Chris touched my arm and rolled up my sleeve. Some of the new cuts were still bleeding and I just wanted to throw up. I thought he was going to yell at me, but he just hugged me by the waist. It wasn't until I buried my face in his chest that I noticed he was crying.

"Why are you crying?" I mumbled.

"Because I hate seeing you hurt yourself. Was it... Was it because of something I said?"

I shook my head, suprised he would think any of that was his fault. "Brandon came and said..." I felt Chris heart beating fast. "He said I was a queer."

Chris pecked my lips and tried to smile,  but I could see something was wrong; the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Come on, let me bandage that up."

After he had covered the cuts with guazes he kissed me again and he had that weird smile. Like he was trying to look happy but wasn't.

"What's wrong?"

You know what's wrong.

He hates you. You cut yourself in his bathroom.

You're just a burden.

"I don't think we should be together anymore." Chris said holding me.

Tears starting forming in my eyes. "Why?"

You know why.

You're fat.

No one could love you.

"I don't want my brother to hurt you anymore. I don't want him to... To be the one that's making you do that." He touched the bandages softly. "I love you Kyler, but I don't think it's right for you to be with me. You deserve better."

I kissed him hard, not even caring if Brandon walked in and caught us making out on the bathroom floor. I didn't let him go until my lungs were on fire. "I love you too." I hadn't realized I was crying until Chris wiped a few tears with his thumb.

"Please don't leave me."

"Are you sure you can handle Brandon being around?" He started playing with my hair nervously, maybe he was scared I would say I wasn't sure. But I nodded my head and kissed him again. "Then let's go and have breakfast, boyfriend."

"Breakfast?"

Chris carried me bridal style to the kitchen, laughing. "Yes, sleepy head. It's morning" My stomach grumbled. "Looks like someone is hungry for pancakes." He whispered in my ear.

I shook my head, trying to block the stomach ache. "I'm not hungry."

"Please Kyler. You're getting too thin. I promise it won't make you fat. Please, just eat something?" He gave me a puppy look and I sighed. Nodding my head I watched him make pancakes.

You'll have to throw it up later.