Uproar

Chapter 44

Mike

"One more time Brad."

"Okay."

After he played the riff, he stopped and looked at me. "Mike, you have that look again."

"What look."

He sighed and strummed absent mindedly on his guitar. "That...like...sad look. Are you feeling okay?"

"Just had another fight with Phi this morning." Brad stopped strumming and raised an eyebrow.

"About?"

"Me not wanting to be around Chester anymore," I shrugged, hoping he'd drop the subject. Brad sighed again and looked away for a moment, chewing on his lip.

"You know how much he needs to be here Mike. Whether you like it or not... We were wrong to--"

I slammed my fist in the desk and spun my chair to face him. "Why does everyone keep telling me this? I know he needs to be here but I just can't stand him!" Brad glared at me then his look softened, as if he was thinking about something.

"Mike, look at your arms." I gave him a puzzled look but did as he instructed, looking down at my arms, my sleeves rolled up to my elbows. "What do you see?"

"My bracelets."

"You wear them everyday right?" he asked, playing a few chords again, looking back down at his guitar. I nodded, still not knowing what he was doing, but going along with it anyways. "And you put them on like, daily, as a habit, not really looking at your arms."

I raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What are you trying to tell me?"

He sighed and set his guitar on his lap, which was pointless since he had the strap around his shoulders. "Mike look." He grabbed my wrist, pulling me up and closer to him, making me stand up in front of him, and tugged all the loose-fitting bracelets down my forearm. "Really look at your wrist."

I looked at my wrist like he instructed. I stared at my spikey bracelets, bands and all the other accessories. "What am I looking at Brad."

"Look closer," he sighed, running his thumb lightly against my skin. I leaned in closer and my heart skipped a beat. I began to sweat, despite the cool temperature of the room. "You see them don't you?"

"Yes," I whispered. I took on a shaky breath of air. I didn't want to be reminded of my past self-harm. I really didn't. But here Brad was, holding my wrist out and showing the scars, faded and thin, hard to see, but still visible to anyone who really looked.

"What made you stop Mike?" he asked, looking at me, his eyes piercing through mine. I opened my mouth, but froze, everything rushing back quickly.

The laughing, the name calling, the park, the rain.

It was raining I remember that. I remembered being beyond upset, suicidal, with a loaded pistol in my backpack. Then him.

I opened my backpack and took my dad's gun in my hands. It felt cold and heavy in my hands. I sighed heavily and lifted it to my head.

"Wait," I heard a voice from beside me. I was about to turn around when cool hands kept my head from turning."Don't turn around, just look ahead." I obeyed and stared out in front of me.

" How did you know I was here?" I asked.

He took the gun from my hands and put it back into my bag."I saw you coming, you were crying."

"Oh." Out from the corner of my eye, I saw that he was wearing a hoodie, covering most of his face. I scoffed,"Why would you care if I died or not."