Horizon

[04]

Scrolling through her feed, she caught a picture of self-harm scars, covering someone's arm like ink in a book. Savannah's breath hitched, her body freezing in place. Her eyes couldn't remove themselves from the photograph. Why was this on her feed? She didn't follow blogs that promoted this on purpose; it was a trigger.

A series of flashbacks hit her like a train. Images flashed of herself, pinning a razor blade to her skin. She flinched, remembering the pain her heart and body felt. All of a sudden, she could feel her skin turn to ice and her eyes fade from life, the beating of her heart decreasing.

Her movements were slow as she closed her laptop shut. Rolling on her back, she clasped her hands across the bottom of her stomach. Millions of thoughts ran around in her mind, repeating words she'd heard before but they still felt painfully new.

"Hey, have you taken Biology? I'm stuck on this question," Carson questioned, spinning around in her chair. Stress presented itself on her face but it quickly faded into concern when noticing Savannah's statue state. "Are you okay?"

Savannah debated whether or not to tell Carson the truth. There was a part of her that was embarrassed by the hell going on inside her head. She knew she shouldn't be but somehow, someway, she still felt ashamed and alone. The day when Carson poured out her family problems appeared in her mind. She realized that the girl trusted her for some reason and she should do the same. Keeping her eyes focused on the ceiling, she sucked in a breath, "I have depression."

"Really?" Carson asked; it sounded more like a genuine question rather than a shocked response. Savannah didn't say anything, afraid of what Carson was thinking. Because of this, the ginger stood from her chair and walked towards the edge of the bed, sitting softly. "My dad does too. So, if you want to talk about it, I'm here. Do you want to talk about it?"

To say Savannah was shocked was an understatement. In movies, books, and television shows she had watched in the past, all situations like this were handled/ended up in a romantic approach. Romanticizing mental illness seemed normal since she had never been in a position where she confessed her thoughts with another person, whom she was attracted to. Nonetheless, she was glad for her friend's reply, "I was on Tumblr and...this...picture popped up and it kinda triggered me."

"What was the picture of?" Carson sat up straight, awkwardly trying to find a comfortable position since Savannah was taking up the entire bed with her body and notebooks. "You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable." She immediately added.

Savannah gulped, nervously tapping her fingers on the rose red blanket underneath her. "It was of someone's scars...from cutting themselves. It reminded me of times when I was in such a dark place where I resulted in doing the same. God, I hate when I get like this, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling; you can't control how you feel. But, you can control how you cope." Carson removed herself from the bed before grabbing a green marker from her desk. When Savannah felt the girl's presence gone, her eyes followed her movements and was confused. She sat up, making more space available. "Instead of cutting, take this marker and draw something on the spot where you want to hurt yourself. Here, give me your arm."

Slowly, the pale girl held up her bare arm. She watched as Carson flipped it so the flat surface was showing her scars. Cautiously, she was as still as a statue while she felt the tip of the marker graze across her skin. Even though she knew what was drawn by the way the writing object was moved, she was still blown away when looking down at the finished product. A small circle was colored in like the moon with squiggled lines as waves under it. Stars were stamped in random places around the scene.

"It's the horizon, the space between sky and sea; one of the most beautiful things to watch early in the morning or late at night," Carson explained as she handed the marker to Savannah. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear nervously with a soft laugh. "I'm not an artist but I hope it's clear."

Shaking her head, Savannah smiled. The tips of her fingers grazed the green ink, admiring the meaning behind it. "No, it's great. Thank you."

"Of course. I'm really glad you feel comfortable enough around me to share something so deep and personal. It shows that we are gonna last forever as besties." The ginger smiled widely.

Besties. She hated that word. She hated how smoothly and clear it rolled off Carson's tongue. Deep down, she knew there was more than a friendship here. More than necessary, flirtatious comments were thrown into the air between the two. But, this wasn't the right thing to think about right now. There was a person, a person her own age, who is willing to listen, give advice, and just be there to comfort her. Words could not describe how grateful she was to have met this girl. It wasn't just how her smile shined like pearls, or how every single sun kissed freckle on her skin was sat on just the right places. It was the graciousness in her heart. It was how she always knew what to say. She made Savannah feel like she belonged in the world.

Without thinking, Savannah pulled Carson into the tightest hug she had ever given. Her arms tightly wrapped around the girl's bare neck, lightly forcing Carson's face into the crook of her neck. Thankfully, she didn't mind. In fact, she accepted the hug with tenderness. She snakes her freckle covered arms delicately around Savannah's waist, squeezing her every so often to show she was there. That she would always be there.

"I'm sorry," Savannah repeated, her voice muffled since it was resting against Carson's shoulder. Tears prickled into the corners of her almond eyes as the tone of her voice cracked with every word she spoke, "No one has ever made me feel so comfortable with this. It's always, 'want to talk about it' when you know they really don't. Then they give shitty responses that aren't helpful at all. But sometimes I don't want to talk about it, which they don't understand. I want someone to be next to me to tell me that it's going to be okay."

Fingers drummed up and down her back as a hand once again squeezed her body. "It will be okay," she whispered. After a few more seconds, she pulled out of the hug. Her hands slid onto Savannah's as she stood up from the bed, pulling the shorted girl up as well. "Come on, let's do something. Get your mind off it."

"But it's raining. There's really not that much to do." Hands disappeared from her own once she was steady on the floor. At the mention of the rain, Savannah's head turned to the window, showcasing evidence to her statement.

Carson shrugged. "So? What do you do when it rains?"

"Sometimes I go outside and run around in it."

"Well, my friend, we just found something to do."