What's Wrong? | S.M. & Magcon

Chapter 24

Here's a new one :D

Aaron's P.O.V.
I hadn't meant to run into Hayes and Shawn, especially not these two. Shawn would see right through my pain and lies. Hayes would spill everything to Nash, because he can't lie to Nash.

These last few days I had stayed around. I knew I couldn't get far without being found.

I hope they listened and are helping Shawn as much as they helped me when I was still around. He needs the help and he needs it quick.

In these last few days, I have learned a lot about living in the streets. I have seen pain, I've been through pain and I've lived it all. I've been drinking and I bought some drugs. I bought them to get me through the nights. They help getting me through the nights.

Especially with what happened the second night. It still hurts.

That's how I learned to run and get away from people you don't want to have a run in with. Hayes and Shawn were an accident, but when they had identified me, I couldn't run away straight. That just didn't feel good. It happened all so quickly. I finally did run and it felt good. I couldn't let them take me back. I wasn't going to go back.

I had only been walking around aimlessly and sleeping anywhere I could, whether it be a bench in a park or a bus shelter. I have also slept in an alleyway, which had a little cover up from a roof as it had been raining that night. It was also after... I never moved after that, so the roof was a plus, I guess. It was the second night.

I had food and water, because I had earned a little money. I saw a street busker the other day and I asked him nicely if I could borrow his guitar to play a song. One song turned into more and he let thought I was pretty talented and let me keep the money I made. He knew from my appearance that I didn't have a good time. Like pity. I don't want pity. It was my own choice to do this.

Shawn's P.O.V.
I stayed positioned at the toilet, because I had no idea if there would be more. When I felt okay again, I flushed the toilet and got up. I looked in the mirror and saw red streaks from my tears run over my pale cheeks. I actually look dead.

I stare at my reflection for a little bit longer until I can't supress the feeling anymore. I need to do it. I roll up my sleeves and trace the scars, scabs and burn marks made by cigarettes. I never smoked. I just couldn't do it anymore. It was a one-time thing.

I was about to end it all; it was the first time I tried. I used everything I could and I finally lit a cigarette and I don't remember much more. I just remember waking up next to Aaliyah. She had cleaned and bandaged up my arms. She had cleaned up the bathroom to cover everything up for my parents. She knew I didn't want them too know. I had scared her so much that I promised myself I wouldn't do it again. I didn't keep that promise.

I got back into reality and stopped tracing my arms. I got my phone out of my left, back pocket. I got it out of its case and found one of the many blades I took out here on tour. I traced the blade and accidentally cut my finger. That's how sharp this one is.

After I feel fine again, I wash off everything that could possibly have blood on it. I didn't get any on my clothes. I cleaned up my arms, which are now once again filled with many angry red lines. Nothing too deep, but still bled out. I bandaged up my arms, Matt kept a secret stash, as he knew he would need it every once in a while.

I had to wash my face under the sink with water. There was some blood on my face and I had to at least try and get the tear tracks a little bit off. When I thought I looked fine again, which is just knowing when you won't get any prettier than you are. I'm still a Shrek.

I sit down on the bed and crawl over to the headboard. I lean against it with the right of my back and pull up my left leg. I support my left arm on that leg while keeping my right leg curled underneath it on the sheets.