You sit sadly on your bed, hunched over your crossed legs, eyes staring blankly at nothing.
You're not sure what exactly to think, so you don't think at all. You don't think about the rejections or the loneliness or the piles of homework you never did or the un-done dishes stacked on your counter, or even, for the first time in a while, the knife gleaming in your room, a near constant temptation.
You can't actually remember the last time you cut. You can point out a scar - a little dot where you dug in, not bothering to drag it across - but you've never really found the appeal in the self-harming gesture. Instead, you beat yourself down with words and thoughts, or if you feel more physical, you burn things. Mostly candles - you don't want to set your apartment on fire - but sometimes matches just to see the little flame, or pieces of paper.
You don't hear the knock on your front door, or the sound of it being jimmied open. You don't hear him come in. You do hear him call your name, though, and you snap your eyes to him.
You weren't aware of the tears trickling down your face, but now that you are, you can't bring yourself to care. He walks towards you slowly, treating you like a frightened animal, and you suppose you are in a way.
He slowly leads you off your bed, but your knees buckle and you fall to the ground. He's too tired, it seems, to carry you, but he helps your weak, limp body walk to his apartment next door.
He lets you into his bedroom and you sit on his bed, feeling sadness rip through you when he leaves, mumbling under his breath.
He comes back though, carrying a giant mug of tea. You take a sip, and you're surprised to find that it's your favourite, and there's enough sugar to boot. Your lip wobbles as you try to smile. You can't.
You curl up on his bed and sip the tea. You're so tired, physically, emotionally, and mentally. He wraps his arm around you, and his body heat and the tea are warming you up; you hadn't realized how cold you were.
Hours later, when the remains of your tea have all but turned to ice, he curls you both up on the bed and you fall asleep quickly, embracing the blackness as you wonder if this is what death feels like. If it is, you're not so scared of it anymore.
