I gasped not knowing what to say. I looked in the mirror and shut my eyes, hoping that he didn't exist. I didn't even know who he was. What was he doing in my house?! His eyes illuminated in the lit room, his pale skin matched it perfectly. He was wearing black skinny jeans, along with some band t-shirt, that was cut on the sides and in the middle. His lips were pierced along with nose and ears. Tattoos trailed on his right arm, whilst his left was a complete sleeve going up to his neck. He turned his head slightly examining me.

"You're doing it wrong. If you're trying to kill yourself you cut vertically, they can't stitch that up.." his voice trailed off as he glanced my arm. He was incredibly handsome, I can admit that.

"Who are you?" I asked, rinsing my arm off in the sink. He shrugged and took a step closer.

"Not exactly sure. Still figuring everything out, I suppose." he said.

"Your name, asshole." I muttered and held some toilet paper against my arm.

"Andy. My name's Andy." he answered, staring at me.

His eyes were like daggers, it made me feel consumed by it. I felt like I was being hypnotized. For a minute I didn't realize I was just staring at him. He cocked his eyebrow up and walked towards me. I leaned back and gripped the sides of the sink.

"You think I'm going to hurt you?" he questioned as he got closer to me.

I couldn't answer. I don't know him. I wasn't sure to be scared or to trust him. He loosely took my arm and started dabbing it softly with a soaked towelette. Once he did that he took off the bracelets he was wearing and put it on my arm.

"There, now no one will see it." he answered. The way his hand felt on my hand felt nice, almost comforting. I couldn't believe this complete stranger is actual comforting me. He took me by my hand holding the blade in his other hand. He knew exactly where I hid it and stuff it back in there. He sat me down and pushed a piece of hair back behind my ear.

"Why are you doing this, Danielle?" he asked quietly. I looked at him confused. I never once said my name. I shrugged it off and looked away.

"No one is happy here. My mom, my dad...me." I mumbled and shifted his position and got comfortable on the floor.

He raised his arm up and smirked,"6th grade, when my parents divorced." There was faint scars on his wrist.

He pointed at his arm next and lifted it slightly up,"8th grade,when I first got bullied." he began to raise his other arm before I stopped him.

"Andy," his name rolled off my tongue naturally. "What are you doing?" I whispered sitting on the floor with him also.

"I'm trying to show you that you're not alone." he continued to raise his other arm.

"The other day." I glanced at it and they were deep, deeper than I have ever done. I began to feel embarrassed that he actual is worse than me. I wouldn't say that to him of course.

"Your turn." his voice brought me out of my thoughts.

"W-what?" I stumbled on those words. "What do you mean my turn?"

"Show them, all of them. I know you have more. It's not like I can judge you in any way, I'm the same as you." He admitted. "I have nothing to hide no more."

I began to speak when I heard my door start to rattle. He looked to the door and stood up. He opened my window just enough for him to crawl out.

"Who were you talking to?" my mom asked, looking around suspiciously.

"No one. Just talking to myself." I answered and saw that the window was still open.

He never closed it.

"Alright, you start your appointments with your psychiatrist." mother said and stood by the door.

"What do you mean I start appointments? I don't need it." I told her, trying to restrain from yelling.

"Yes you do, Danielle. You need help." And just like that she shut the door. I leaned back on the pillow and tried not to cry.

"Andy?' I half whispered, hoping he would come back. I looked out to the window and he was gone, just like that. I sighed and hopped back into bed. The bracelets that he put on me, still were on my bleeding wrist.

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