Love is Painful

You Are My Sunshine

Sal's POV
My small feet hit the hard pavement coated in crisp leaves that crunch beneath my weight as I run through the streets.  The chilly autumn breeze grazes my neck and stings my eyes as it passes through.  I take a turn at Travis's street and hurry towards his house.  I hear sirens wailing in the distance, which is hopefully the ambulance I called.  I reach his door and bang on it several times, hyperventilating with the terror of possibly losing the love of my life. 

Shortly after, Travis's mother answers the door.  I push past her.  "I'm so sorry, this is an emergency!" I yell, galloping up the stairs. 

I barge into Travis's room. 

There, curled up on the blood-soaked sheets, lies an unconscious Travis, his slit wrists pouring out blood.  "Travis..." I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.  I run over to him and cradle his fragile body in my arms. 

Travis's mother pokes her head in, her smile fading into shock.  She screams, flinging her arms around her bleeding son and weeping into his dirty blond hair.  The sirens grow louder and at last an ambulance pulls up to the Phelps' home. 

Paramedics rush in with a stretcher and carry out the unconscious body of Travis, shoving him in the ambulance.

I climb into the back along with his mother.  On the way to the hospital, she sobs, petting her son's hair and cooing to him through choking tears.  I grasp his hand tightly, rubbing his knuckles with my thumb.  His hands are warm and soaked in blood. 

When we reach the hospital, doctors take Travis away and leave me with his sobbing mother in the waiting room.  Tears soak my scarred cheeks and even run down my plastic prosthetic, dripping and soaking my shirt. 

If Travis dies...

Then I do not want to live.

Travis's POV
The faint noise of a beeping heart rate monitor fills my ears.  My eyes flutter open to the sight of a hospital room, boring, blank, and colorless.  My wrists are bandaged.  My whole head aches and my arms sting in the places I cut. 

Suddenly, the door swings open, and in runs Mother.  She flings her arms around my neck, showering me with kisses and sobbing into my hair.  But she is not the only one to enter the room.  After she comes in, standing in the doorway, is the sweet, sensitive blue-haired boy who smells of lemons and soap, Sal Fisher.

"Sal," my eyes fill with bittersweet tears as a smile creeps up on my face while I stare at my beautiful boyfriend.  He looks so angelic standing there.  He walks over to me, his soft pigtails bouncing up and down as he walks.  He reaches me and pulls me into a warm embrace.  "Oh, Sal, I'm so sorry, I should have never-"  I am cut off by Sal dropping his prosthetic and pressing his lips against mine.  Mother just stands back, her eyes wide.  Sal pulls away and smiles at me, a dusty blush draped over his scarred cheeks.  I turn to Mother, who is just staring in disbelief.  "Uh, Mother, Sal is my... boyfriend," I whisper, turning bright red, tears stinging my eyes.  Mother just smiles sadly and nods.  "I'm proud of you for being yourself," she says at last.  A smile blossoms on my tanned face.  Sal smiles too, clipping his prosthetic back onto his face. 

We visit for awile, and finally, the doctors release me. 

Mother encourages that I spend the night with Sal so that Father does not abuse me and cause me to attempt killing myself again.  We part our ways, and Sal and I walk towards Addison Apartments. 

We walk with our fingers intertwined and our sides nearly touching.  We reach the doors of the tall green building and Sal opens them for me, still not letting go of my hand.

But who do we come across in the lobby as we walk in holding hands?

None other than Larry Johnson, Sal's best friend who hates my fucking guts and does not know about Sal and I yet.