Three

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I walked into the house and tried to run straight up to my room, but my mom blocked my path.

"Why aren't you at therapy?" She asked accusingly.

"He let me leave early." I lied, although I knew she would check and find out that I was lying.

"Don't lie to me, Kellin. Why did you leave?" She was really angry and I just wanted, more than anything, to be in my room. I wanted to be alone.

"Answer me!" She yelled, and then she did something I never would have expected her to do.

She slapped me.

I tasted blood almost instantly. I looked at my mom in horror and she even looked surprised at what she had done. But she didn't apologize.

"Go to your room." She said sternly and walked away. I was all too willing to oblige.

I ran up the stairs two at a time. I went into my room and slammed the door. I fell onto my bed and tried to suppress the tears. My cheek stung extremely bad.

Sure I was in physical pain, but I was more in a state of shock.

My mother, my own mother, hit me. She'd said some bad things to me over the years, but she had never hit me. Ever. Until now.

I got up from my bed and grabbed my messenger bag. I had thrown it on the floor before I got onto my bed. I took out one of my blades and sat in the corner of my room.

I cut into my arm, pretty deep. Right now I didn't care about how much I bled. I wanted to bleed. I wanted a distraction, one that would work for at least the time being.

I was at four. Four cuts. Blood was trickling down my arm, and that's when I decided I'd better stop. I set the blade down and put my head back against the wall.

"Kellin, someone's here." I heard my mom's voice. I was in such a numb state that I didn't even react to what she said. I wasn't even sure I'd heard her right.

I heard my door open, and where I expected to see my mother, I didn't.

I saw Vic.

He looked horrified. I should have moved. I should have covered my arm. I should have made a move to hide the bag of blades right in front of me, but there was no use. He had already seen what I'd done.

"Kellin..." He shut my door and came over to the corner I was sitting in. I had my knees pulled up to my chest; my arms were just lying at my sides.

Vic grabbed my arm and examined it. I still felt numb. I didn't feel his touch. I was just staring blankly at my ceiling.

"Kellin, why did you do this?" I knew he was talking, but I didn't want to hear him.

Right then, I didn't feel anything. It was like I was there, I knew what was going on around me, but I didn't feel real.

"Kellin!" Vic sounded hurt. I looked into his eyes. They held so much worry, much more than a stranger should show toward another stranger. I didn't want him to worry about me. I wasn't his responsibility.

He looked around frantically, and then I felt him get up. My eyes followed him. He went over to the door that led to my bathroom.

He yanked the door open and walked in there. I stared at my ceiling again.

Only seconds later, I felt him next to me again.

He grabbed my arm and put a damp cloth on it. Why was he doing this?

He cleaned my cuts, and once they were all clean, he went back to the bathroom.

Once he was done disposing of the bloody towels, he came back and sat in front of me. He looked into my eyes.

"Kellin, can you hear me?" He asked softly. I nodded slightly.

"Please tell me why you did this." He looked so hurt.

I just stared at him. A few minutes passed, and I decided I should talk.

"You should go." I said quietly, finally looking away from his gaze.

"No. I'm not leaving." He said defiantly.

"Please, Vic. Just go. I don't want you here." I pleaded. I didn't want him there. Or, maybe I did. I'm not sure. But it didn't matter what I wanted. I needed him to leave.

"No. I want to stay." He said. His voice was slightly shaky.

I didn't say anything. There was no use in trying to get him to leave when I already knew he wouldn't listen.

"Why do you even want to be around me after what you saw?" I asked, looking into his eyes.

"Because, Kellin. I don't think what you were doing is disgusting. I think you just needed comfort, and you find comfort in harming yourself." He paused and started rolling up his sleeve. I was surprised when I saw the faded scars that littered his tanned wrists.

"You..." I didn't know what to say, but he got the idea, and he nodded.

"Yes, I used to do it. I was about fifteen and I thought there was no other way to cope with pain, but I was wrong. There are tons of other ways...healthy ways. I started listening to music when I was sad. I took a run, anything to distract myself. By the time I turned sixteen, I was clean. I turn eighteen next week." I was surprised. Vic was so happy now, I never would have guessed that he had ever self harmed.

"Will you leave now?" I probably sounded extremely rude, but I just wanted to be alone. He looked surprised, but nodded.

"I'll leave, under one condition." I sighed.

"What?"

"You can't harm yourself again." He bargained.

I laughed, in my head.

He, of all people, should know that it isn't easy to just stop. If I got the urge, I'd do it. I couldn't help myself, despite how hard I tried to resist.

"If you leave, I won't again tonight. But I can't promise that I never will again." I muttered. He nodded.

"I understand that. Oh, and I'll be checking your arm tomorrow for any new ones, so don't try to sneak any past me." He said with a smile.

I just looked at him.

Why was he so nice? Why did he care what I did to myself? I'd ask him some other time. Right now, he just needed to leave.

As he stood up and headed to the door, a question came to mind that couldn't wait for a different time.

"Wait." I said.

He turned to me with a curious look.

"Why did you come here?" I asked.

"Oh, I just wanted to see if you were back from your plans. I was going to ask you to hang out." He said with a sheepish smile.

I simply nodded.

After a few more seconds of staring at me, Vic left.

And then I was alone again. Alone with all of my dark, twisted thoughts.

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