If I was to die. Would I go to hell or heaven? If I was to kill myself would the outcome be different? Is there even hell or heaven or even an after life? I like to imagine so. But then again nothingness sounds rather inviting after living with voices in my head. Or will they follow me everywhere I go like a bad smell? Death actually sounds appealing right now. Anything is better than the look of disappointment Jack is giving me disappointment and knowing. He hasn't questioned it, surprisingly. He's just staring at my cuts. The look of disappointment doesn't even seen to be pointed at. It's more like self-loath. Like why hadn't he figured it out, how did he not know?
"C'mon Alex, let's get out." He pulls my free hand that isn't covering my stomach. Why hasn't he questioned me, I'd be questioning him if the tables were turned and he was the one cutting. I'd be near yelling at him. Well that's just me.
It feels awkward to be around Jack now that I have rejected him. He hasn't looked at me properly since then but he thinks I don't know he like me. He will never find out that I heard him. Just another thing he won't find out. "I'm sorry." I mutter as we walk back to the physical education block.
"Do you have anymore?" he asks. I nod curtly and don't make eye contact. He grabs hold of my chin and turns my head to face him. I focus my eyes on the ground still not looking at him even though he wants me to look at him. "Alexander look at me." He demands, I make my eyes meet his for half a second then flick them back to the ground. "Alex!" he says getting mad. I slowly move my eyes up to his. "Where are they?"
"My thighs." I whisper almost silently but he hears. I pulled away from his grip, and run into the changing room. I am just about to pull my skinny jeans on when he knocks on the door.
"Alex, can I see them?" he whispers. I find myself nodding even though he can't see. I hesitantly unlock the door and step out of the changing room with only my boxers and Blink 182 shirt on. He gasps at the sight of my thighs. I pull one of my boxer legs up to reveal my whole thigh and then do the same on the other side. He shakes his head as if he was trying to convince himself that he was imagining it. "Why." He whispers pulling me into him gently. I shrug but know exactly why.
Jack lightly kisses my shoulder before letting go. He sighs and looks around the room, everywhere but me. I start to feel awkward so I roughly pull my jeans on and pick up my bag. Jack copies my actions and we leave, an awkward silence settles between us. That's when I decide that the ground is the most interesting thing in the world and that I should stare at it intently so I don't miss any crack, line or pebble.
Jack sighs loudly and ignore him. I fish through my bag until I find my head phones and pull them on. I push play on my MP3 player and The Misfits come on loudly startling me but I don't turn it down. I walked up to a lone tree just a few metres from the field and drop my bag at the bass. I look up at it, taking my headphones of pausing my music. I look back at Jack who is staring at me in confusion. I grasp a branch and skilfully pull myself up into the tree.
I look down at Jack and motion for him to come up. He sighs and tries to get up the same way as me. He fails. He fails so badly he ends up on his arse on the ground. I can help but laugh, he smirks up at me and tries again. This time he is successful, sadly. "That never happened." He breathes. Climbing a tree really took it out of him, he must not do a lot of physical exercise. "So Alex, are you going to tell me your story?"
I sigh and shake my head, "Not yet," I whisper barely loud enough for him to hear.
Jack gives me a sad smile and nods his head in understanding. "I'll tell you mine then, it will probably sound stupid but hey, you'll find out sometime. So a few years ago I was diagnosed with depression, it was fun times. I had no reason to be depressed but I was and I couldn't understand it. I kept thinking about this so called illness I had and I started to get worse. It got so bad that I started self-harming and it wasn't just a few, or like you. It was all down both arms, all down my legs. My stomach and chest were covered too. And then I started getting suicidal thoughts and started planning murders and started drinking and smoking. I stopped eating and started overdosing on my ADD pills, sleeping pills and depression pills. Mom and dad never noticed, they were never home, constantly away on business. My sister was the one who found me. She took me to hospital and took leave away from university to look after me." I am shocked by the words coming out of his mouth. This beautiful boy has been through so much. I grab his arm and carefully pull his sleeve up to his elbow.
I gasp at the sight. There are scars caving the whole thing. I can tell they are quite old as they aren't bumpy but still discoloured. "I-is your whole body like this?" I ask worried. He nods and looks away. I kiss every scar on his arm that is uncovered. "I still think you're beautiful." He gives me a small, ghost of a smile as a single tear slips down his cheek heavily.
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