I slammed the bathroom door of my bedroom closed behind me. I can't believe that I just did that. My breathing was still out of control and I knew that I was having a panic attack. Did I do anything about it? No. But I did know the one thing that would calm me down, but I was hesitant to do it. I promised myself not again. But my aching chest and labored breathing reminded me that at this point in time, I had to do whatever is necessary to calm down.
So I crawled over to the bathroom cabinet and opened it slowly, almost as if something was going to jump out at me. My demons, maybe? I don't know anymore. I then spotted it. My box of blades. Hm, I guess I actually was right. My demons would be under this damn sink.
I grabbed the small black box and opened it slowly, hesitantly. When the lid was open, I was greeted with the small blades that were within. It was a strange thought, that comfort would be given to me through the harm of myself. But, it was true. Any harm that I could inflict or receive was deserved.
I chose a blade an brought it to my exposed arm, sliding the sharp metal across the fragile skin. Blood sprang forward almost immediately, but so did relief. I continued to do this, but then I heard a knock on the bathroom door.
"Fuck," I whispered.
"Hello? Are you in there?" It was the voice from earlier. The man that was talking to me when I ran out.
"Go away," I said back. I didn't want him, much less anyone, to see me in this state.
"I don't think so. Not until you tell me why you ran out." the voice said back.
"Because I screwed up my chances at another family, that's why. Now can you go away now?" I said, annoyed. This man just wouldn't leave me alone.
"I don't see how you messed up. You didn't even talk. So in my eyes, you're still in the race." He said back, his voice calm and soothing.
"But-ugh, never mind," I said, bringing the blade across my wrist again for being so stupid.
"No, please tell me!" He said eagerly.
I gave him a look from beyond the door, even though I knew he couldn't see me. "No, you'll just judge me."
"I promise, I won't. Trust me, there's very little that can surprise me."
I sighed. "Fine. The reason why I was giving you a 'look' was because I honestly couldn't see you. Some bitch broke my glasses earlier, so everything is blurry. I was squinting because I wanted to see your face." Why am I telling him this? He laughed. "Why are you laughing?" I asked him accusingly.
"If you open the door, you'll see. Well, figuratively I guess." he said. Wow, he just made a joke about me being blind. But it made me laugh, so why not. Just as I was about to open the door, I realized that the cuts on my arm were bleeding still, and my blade was out.
"Shit," I whispered. I ran to the sink and cleaned the cuts, not worrying about putting bandages on them. I threw my blade under the sink again and threw on my jacket. I walked to the door and opened it slowly. There in front of me stood the same man from earlier. The one that I ran into. "What did you want to show me that I would figuratively see?" I asked sarcastically.
I saw the silhouette of his arm take something off his face and then slowly make its way toward mine. I backed away instinctively, honestly afraid that he was going to hurt me. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly. I loosened up and let him come closer. I then realized that he just put glasses on my face because I could automatically see ten thousand times better. And that was when I finally looked up at this man's face. And the person standing in front of me was the very man that saved my life too many times to count on my fingers. The man I had looked up to for far longer than he realized.
Patrick Stump was standing outside my door.
A/N
Hey guys! Two updates, one day! Who knows, maybe I'll do more. But here this is, don't say I didn't tell you so with the trigger warning, though! The first person to comment will get a tag in the next chapter, regardless if it's been posted already.
Love from the other side of the screen,
Pebbs xx