Bitter-Sweet

Chapter 18: Never Again

TJ

TYRUS IS CANON AND IM BSBABABSBBABSBSBSB

TJ POV:

Our reports were in and I was just so excited! Not. Reports are the thing I dread the most, what? Is it supposed to be a surprise that I'm a piece of shit? I knew that already thanks. I clenched my fists as they were handed out, my brown envelope finally landing on my desk with my full name on it. I didn't have The any desire to open it and was tempted to throw it in the trash but then I do always hold the tiniest bit of hope that I did well. Even though it never happens. I quickly turned it over as soon as I got it so no one could see my full name. I hate it, I feel like maybe my parents really did hate me since I was born and me being gay was the last straw. That isn't true but still, my name is horrific. Shoving it in my bag, I left for home.

Luckily no one was there so I went straight to my room without any hassle at all. I pulled my report from my bag and sat on my bed, turning it in my hand going back and forth on what I wanted to do. I took a deep breath and slowly ripped at the envelope to reveal several pieces of paper inside. I skimmed the report and scoffed, of fucking course.

The three Rs, grades 1-5
1= Poor
5= Great

Maths: Responsibility 1
              Resilience 1
              Respect 1
Final Percentage: 0%

English: Responsibility 3
                Resilience 4
                Respect 3
Final Percentage: 73%

P.E: Responsibility 5
         Resilience 5
          Respect 5
Final Percentage: 97%

Tossing it aside, tears filled my eyes. Fuck maths, fuck maths, fuck maths. I punched my bed before I made a dash for the bathroom. Finding a razor, i clutched it in my hand firmly before without much consideration, I drew it across my arms, creating deep lines and blood trickling down my arm. I started to sob as I dropped the razor and collapsed onto the floor. Fuck maths, fuck maths, fuck maths. I swear there is something wrong with me, my brain doesn't fucking work. My hand smashed into the drawer of pills and I sniffed. Maybe I could...do it? My throat closes and I tried to stop myself. No no no no no, you just got with Cyrus you fucking idiot. I tried to shake my overwhelming need and tried to focus on the good things. But the bad things were just too strong. My heart numbed like it always does and the bleeding subsided, cleaning everything up so not evidence was left other than the scars on mr arm, I ran into my room, grabbing my phone and desperately hitting the call button. I held it to my ear and anxiously waited to hear his voice.

'Hey TJ!' He sounded so happy that tears just started to fall from my eyes and I accidentally sobbed into the phone, the numb feeling replaced with a deep sadness, 'Hey! What's wrong!? Teej talk to me!'

I couldn't speak and I just kept crying, falling onto the ground as I must have been scaring him, I felt so bad, 'I-I-I'm s-s-sorry,'

'No! What's wrong?!' He sounded alarmed

I sniffed, 'C-can we m-meet at t-the swings?'

'Of course TJ! I'm heading straight there!' He hung up quickly, almost cutting himself off. I grabbed my blue hoodie and left, just wanting him to cheer me up.

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Cyrus POV:

I swing lightly but I couldn't shake this awful feeling I had in my heart, it hurt so bad because I was so worried about him. I need him to be okay. I spotted him coming over to me, hands shoved deep in the pocket of his hoodie as he wore his tough guy face. I gave him a small smile, 'Teej...' as soon as he got over, he pulled me up from the swing and held me tightly in his arms. I enjoyed the comfiness of his hoodie and I could feel how fast his heart was beating. He was scared, 'What's wrong?' I asked, my voice muffled by him.