Carter Bridge.
"Who are you and why're you in my house?" I asked him.
It was a boy. Around 18? His dirty blonde hair covered the top of his ears and his eyebrows.
His eyes where a chocolate brown and he had dimpled cheeks as he smirked at my current remark.
"This isn't your house. This house belongs to Charles, oh and I'm, Tate, Tate Langdon." He chuckled.
I stared at him evilly.
"Who's Charles?" I asked.
"The owner of the house."
He stared at me, like he was stirring deep into my soul. I starred back. Not that deep into his soul though.
"Get out." I said quietly.
Again he stared at me, deeply, his dark brown ones starred into my dull brown. ones. He was attractive, really attractive.
"Did you not hear me? I said get out!" I shouted a little bit.
"You'll need help around here. I'll help you unpa-."
"Just get out." I cut him off.
He sighed and walked turned off the light making the basement dark again. I turned it back on and he was gone. I froze, I could only move my eyes. I ran upstairs and upstairs again into my room then slammed the door shut.
It's time.
My conscience again. I nodded to myself and took the small, sharp blade from my jacket pocket.
I pierced the skin of my wrist and I shut my eyes tight as I felt pain all around my body, the red liquid started to pour from my wrist and onto my carpet. It's a good thing it's purplish and not white.
"Stop!" A familiar voice yelled. I dropped the blade and looked up to find the boy from my basement.
"How did you get in here!? And why're you still in my fucking house!" I yelled.
Suddenly I saw his eyes begin to water, like he was on the brim of crying.
"W-what's wrong?" I asked him.
A tear rolled from his eye down to his cheek an passed his chin then dropped onto his shirt.
"Seeing someone hurt themselves purposely upsets me." He sniffed as he wiped his tear stained cheeks.
I was also holding back tears, someone actually cared. They actually cared about me.
I let the tears flow out of my eyes and he strides towards me and held me, tight.
"I can help you, Carter." His voice cracked.
I sniffed as I wiped my tears.
"I'll be fine, I don't need help. It's just good to know that someone actually cares about me." I smiled at him, probably my first in a while that wasn't fake.
"But I like to help people, I'll even help you unpack." He grinned, wiping his nose with his shirt.
"I'd like that, and I'm sorry for having a go at you earlier, it's just weird having a stranger in your basement who disappears, kind of like a ghost." I laughed.
His eyebrows shot up and he looked down on me like something was up.
"Yeah, like a ghost." He also laughed, only this was a nervous laugh, like he was up to something or was hiding something. But I ignored it.
He picked up a box and started opening it up, it was full of school books and equipment.
I also helped him stack them and other things.
I like him. I like him a lot.
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