~Dylan's POV~
From somewhere inside the depths of Ash's chest I heard a muffled "Wha? What's this?" I pulled my head up from his chest but it was to late. He stood there gawking at my wrist, where I had made 14 cuts on my arm. "Why?" He mouthed. Except he knew why.
I couldn't face him any more. I turned to run, but he grabbed my wrist, I cringed. "Sorry." He said letting go.
"But why?" He whispered.
"Really? WHY?" Now I was mad. "What the HELL do you mean 'WHY'!?!?!?"
"Dylan all I meant was..." He stoped.
"OK what did you 'mean'"
"Why would you knowingly hurt yourself." He stated softly looking at his shoes.
"You wanna know 'why' I have cuts up and down my arms? Maybe it's because my mom is dead or maybe it's because thee days ago my brother committed suicide, or maybe it's because my father abuses me!"
He stood there with his mouth on the floor. "Dylan I didn't mean to..."
I look above him and saw ALL the people who had heard our conversation.
And now they were looking at me because I had just told all of them that my mom was dead, my brother was dead, I self-harm, and my father abuses me.
I can't wait until I see my fathers expresion from that phone call home!
I threw my hands over my face, and I ran as fast as I could out of the building.