Bullied || Shawn Mendes

Chap. 5

"Where are Mom and Dad?" I ask, my voice weak.

"They're...fighting." he says, hesitating to answer.

"Fighting?" I ask.

He nods his  head slowly, looking down at his palms. 

"Why?"

"Well, the doctor told them about your scars..they've been arguing over who's fault it is that you cut..."

"Oh my god." I say, my voice cracking.

"Tegan, it's okay. Everything will be alright. I know it will." he assures me, standing up from the seat. "Now, I have to go tell the doctor you're awake. I'll be right back."

The doctor comes in holding a clip board in one of his hands and a pen in the other. My parents walk in shortly after him and stand on the side of the bed.

"So, since it was just an anxiety attack, you will be able to leave tonight. I'm just going to check you  up again and we'll sign the release forms." he explains. "But, it was a pretty severe attack, so you'll need to be careful with what you do. Don't do anything that can raise you heart rate quickly, okay?"

I nod my head as he checks my heart rate with the monitor next to my bed. My dad squeezes my hand and I look up to see him smiling at me. I smile back and focus back to the doctor.

Once he's done, my parents follow the doctor out to sign the release forms while I wait in the waiting room with Aaron and Brandon. All I can think about at this moment is my parents fighting. How it's my fault any of this happened. If I just didn't cut myslef, my parents would have never fought. I can't help but think it's my fault. Shivers travel through my spine as I think about what might happen in the future. What if they get divorced? What if I get sent to a mental hospital? I wouldn't be able to handle myself there. They might htink they're helping me but that will just make everything worse. I don't want to go to therapy or group sessions, or a mental hospital. I want to just stay home.

I feel tears start to roll down my cheeks but they suddenly go away when I feel Brandon nudging my shoulder, immediately bringing me back to realily. I follow them out to the car and sit bt the window, leaning my head on the cold glass. The ride home is awkward, for no one says a word the whole ride. The thoughts inside my head have started to make my head hurt so once we get home I decide to just call it a day and go to bed. My parents want me to stay home from school tomorrow just to make sure I'm alright. The want to be sure I'm one hundred percent okay before the send me back to school.

My mom follows me to my room, and kindly tucks me into bed.

"Mom." I say, before she exits the room.

"Yes?"

"Is everything alright with you and Dad?"

She looks down at her palms, and slowly walks back over to me. "Of course, sweetheart. We just...had a disagreement that's all. Now I'll see you in the morning. We have a lot to discuss." 

She softly kisses me on the forhead before turining off the light and leaving me in my dark room, with every single thought about what happened today left fresh in my memory.

I wake up at around nine the next morning, and slowly drag myself oh of bed. The only other person that is awake is my dad, who is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and his laptop in front of him.

"Oh, good morning, Tegan. Didn't hear you come downstairs."

"Morning." I say.

"You hungry? Can I make you breakfast or something?"

"No, I'll make my own."

I walk over to the pantry, and grab myself some cheerios and find a bowl to pour them in. I make my breakfast then slowly walk back up the stairs, passing Brandon on the way up.

I sit on the edge of my bed while I eat my cereal, wondering what my parents will make me do, since they now know of me cutting. I'm suddenly very nervous about talking to my parents today.

Time flies by as I wait for my mother to wake up so we can talk. They sit me down on the couch and we sit quietly for a few moments.

"Why do you do it?" my mother suddenly asks, breaking the silence.

I can't and won't tell them about the bullying at school, but I have no other excuse.

"We can't help you unless we know what's wrong." My father states.

I still don't say anything. I feel my heart rate speed up as I feel them staring at me. I continue to look out the window, my sweaty palms nervously rubbing against each other in my lap.

The awkward tension in the room started to build as I continued to sit quietly. My breathing increased as I felt there eyes glued to me.

"I don't know..." my voice trails off.

"Are you not happy with your lifestyle?"

"Look, I just..." I look over at them, letting out a big sigh. "Sometimes I just... I get really stressed out sometimes.

"So, harming yourself is the answer?"

"No!" I snapped, although it is true. "I just...I don't know I-"

"Your mother and I will be talking about therapy sessions for you." my father says.

"Dad, no! That won't make anything better!"

"Do not raise your voice with me, Tegan."

"You guys will never understand what I go through!" I scream, standing from the couch and running up to my bedroom. I heard them yell my name as I ran off but I paid no attention and continued to my room.

By the time I slammed my door shut, my eyes were already drenched in tears. My vision had gotten blurry from the tears and I could feel my cheeks blazing red.

At this point, I really didn't care about anything. I went over to my drawers, opening the bottom one and digging to the bottom, revealing the blades that lie underneath everything. I sat on my bed, my eyes and cheeks still red from the tears. I watched myself cry in the mirror for a few seconds, hearing frequent sobs as I struggled to breathe.

After a few minutes of sitting quietly I look down at my arms, that are already covered in scars. I connect the cold blade to my skin as I roughly pushed onto my arm.

I watched as the dark red blood began to trickle down my arm, bringing me pleasurable pain in an instant.