The Fourth Notebook

29

James POV
11/27/14
"James?" Cody asked from across the room.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry about yesterday."
You mean when you yelled and were drunk and high?
"It's okay," I answer.
"No but it's not."
He starts tearing up.
"Hey, you wanna go for a walk?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, I'll go get Grace," I started.
"No, just us."
"Okay."
I am not allowed to leave the hospital but we walk around the large lobby.
"So about, yesterday," he starts.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry. I used to work for these guys and they would give me drugs, I would give them money. I would sell the drugs and give them 20 percent of my profits. Obviously I would keep some for my self, but then I got addicted. I had to sell the drugs to others to get money but I started selling them to myself. I tried selling them at school, but I was ratted out."
He sighed as we took a left to the cafeteria.
"I freaked out and I tried to calm down with some marijuana wax in the bathroom. That didn't help my case. The police came and gave me a drug test and I was told I had two choices. One, turn in my suppliers or two, come here for at least five months or more."
"And you chose here?"
"Yeah. I guess you can say that my dealers are pretty scary. And they don't let you out of the deal either."
"Oh."
We find a table after getting some food.
"So why are you here, James?" He asks.
"I thought you knew, I'm suicidal."
"I know that, but I also know that you need something big to get yourself in here, right?"
"Yeah. I guess so."
"So?"
"So, I was caught in the act of hanging myself and I was brought here. I thought I could break my neck or at least ruin my throat if I wasn't going to die. My mom walked in my room and saw me tying the knot and she freaked out. She called 911 and just kept screaming at me like a maniac. When the paramedics came to my house, I freaked out and tried to get away but I was taken away by these people. They took away my blades, my pills, and the gun that my mom kept under the mattress and sent me here."
"So like do you cut? I heard that cutting is common."
I hesitantly rolled up my sleeve.
The scars spelled out dozens of words.
Hate
Too Late
Dead Already
Kill me now
Blood
Cut
Hang
Die
I remember every time that I cut.
My first cut was a quick slash across my wrist.
It healed in less than a week.
The hate cut was done three months ago.
It was my deepest cut.
Blood was spilling out it.
Gushing red.
It's still there.
"My family is terrified of my now and I just want to die to save them the trouble. I know fear. I know pain. Seeing the look in their eyes, I died right there. Nothing hurts more than that look. I can't ever see that look again."
"James?"
"Yeah."
"I'm always going to be there for you, okay?"
"Me too, Cody."
(A/N: heyo! I am going away for the weekend and there is no wifi were I'm heading so what ever I write will not be posted until Sunday afternoon. Thanks for understanding!)